


In the Warm Embrace of Winter

by WriteYourDreamsTheyWillCome



Series: When Winter Melted a Heart [3]
Category: Tinker Bell (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 60
Words: 139,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1969743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteYourDreamsTheyWillCome/pseuds/WriteYourDreamsTheyWillCome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The third story in the trilogy (When Winter Melted a Heart and To Have Been Loved by Winter). The fairies have returned from the war, saving Pixie Hollow from the Alamur, but the after effects of war affect Milori more than expected. Clarion believes that love conquers all and she and Milori will have their happily ever after yet. Tink and other side characters' stories resume.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I studied a little about post-traumatic stress disorder after war in hopes of making this story a bit more realistic. By no means does it do justice to our real soldiers who sacrifice so much for us every day.

\-------  
Clarion looked at Blizzard in surprise as the unconscious Milori was loaded onto him.

"He returned a few days ago," Sled said as if reading her mind. "I wasn't sure if I should tell you because owls don't abandon someone they bond closely with unless..." His voice trailed off, but she knew he meant owls only left if the bond was broken by death.

She climbed up with Spruce's help and held Milori's head in her lap, not caring about how filthy Milori was. Icicle rode with them as Sled drove.

Spruce took Milori's pulse while they flew.

"Is he alright?" she asked, worried how long Milori had been unconscious. She tried to find a spot on him that was clean to infuse some dust without infusing dirt too, but he was filthy everywhere.

"I think he's extremely exhausted. We'll know more after getting him cleaned up and in the lake."

Clarion sat on the warm side of the bed in the cottage and held Milori's hand, with him tucked in the winter side. He still hadn't woken up, but Spruce promised Milori was only sleeping now.

Sled and Spruce had taken Milori into Frost Lake in hopes that the freezing cold would help with the exhaustion. They had bathed him while she had waited on the shore. Sled had said that Milori had kept mumbling her name while they had been washing him but his eyes hadn't opened.

She carefully held Milori's left hand near her that had some blisters on his palm. Spruce suspected it was from wielding a sword for so many days. Milori laid in the bed shirtless and coated in bruises on his chest and abdomen. His arms bore cuts from knives or swords, and his right eye was slightly swollen to match his lower lip that was swollen and split. Spruce had wrapped Milori's torso tight with frosted bandages to support where ribs were broken. What worried her most were the thin-lined bruises around Milori's neck and the multiple welts and cuts on his back. Spruce wouldn't answer her questions about what had caused the marks, although she suspected he knew. So she sat watch after Spruce started an intravenous line in Milori with her sugar that had been iced. Then he left with Sled and Icicle for a bit to check on the other soldiers.

It had grown late, so she laid down beside him and held his hand to join him in sleep.

It was dark out, only the moon and their fairy glows giving soft light when she distantly heard whimpering later that night. She felt something shift beside her and then heard a moan. Opening her eyes, she saw Milori half tossing and turning in his sleep. A strangled scream escaped through his closed mouth.

"Milori," she said firmly and sat up to shake his shoulder in the one spot it wasn't bruised. "It's a dream. Wake up, Milori."

His eyes shot open, and she was suddenly on her back with her hands pinned down near her head and a hand on her throat. Before she could even react, he was off of her and had scrambled back on his side of the bed. His eyes were wide, the whites glowing slightly in the moonlight. His ragged breathing filled the silence.

She sat up, her heart thundering in her chest. "Milori, it's just me. We're at our cabin," she said softly and moved slowly to turn on the lantern on her nightstand. When she turned back around, his eyes were darting around the room as if trying to gain his bearings. "Honey?" she asked gently and reached out her hand slowly so as not to frighten him.

He startled as if he had forgotten she was there. His eyes searched her and then landed on her hand as if unsure what she was going to do.

The fear and confusion in his beautiful eyes broke her heart. "Milori," she coaxed and gently touched his cheek.

A shudder ran through him, almost as if he hadn't expected her to be real. Then his hand reached up to cup hers on his cheek. "Clarion?" he almost whimpered.

"It's me," she promised but didn't move closer for fear of frightening him. "Do you remember coming home?"

His brow furrowed as he tried to remember. "We all came home," he rasped, but his body was still tense.

She nodded with tears in her eyes. "You all came home. They're gone, sweetheart."

His eyes cleared as his mind became his own again. "Did I hurt you?" His brow furrowed and he touched her throat gently.

"No," she answered. "Does your throat hurt? You're still hoarse," she frowned in concern. She scooted closer.

He pulled her close, obviously ignoring the pain of his ribs and body.

She stroked his hair. "It's alright," she cooed soothingly, tears gathering in her eyes at seeing deep scars that she had caused by sending him to war. She held on tight, trying to fight back the demons with her love when the Lord of Winter buried his face against her neck and wept.


	2. Chapter 2

Tinkerbell was busy making crutches and walking sticks for a few of the Lost Heroes the next day. She and Terence weren't quite on the best terms yet, although they had talked and made up a bit when they had been in the other lands waiting for the war to be over back in Pixie Hollow.

Just then, Terence came flying over to her workbench at the shop. "I found some more sticks, Tink."

"Thanks," she smiled and glanced at him.

He didn't make eye contact but gave a smile.

"I don't know if you wanna use that," Bobble spoke up from his bench next to hers. He pointed with his hammer at her prototype crutch made from sticks.

"Why not?" she frowned and looked at him.

"I agree, Miss Bell. It isn't sturdy enough to hold a heavy fairy," Clank added from her other side.

She looked at his face to see if he was teasing.

"A fairy like the Lord of Winter is a big one," Bobble finished.

Her head whipped back to Bobble.

"I think it just needs a tweak here," Terence said and started to lean his weight on the crutch, pointing down at a pressure point of the stick.

The crutch snapped and Terence collapsed onto it, smashing the entire prototype.

"Terence! What have you done?!" she snapped.

Clank and Bobble were in the middle of helping Terence up when they all looked at her in astonishment.

She closed her eyes and started counting under her breath. Then she calmly walked over and helped Terence up. "Sorry. Are you alright?"

He nodded but kept his hand cupped against him. "Sorry, I'll help rebuild it," he said quietly.

Pulling his hand out and looking at his palm, she found a large splinter. "Oh, Terence. Here, I can get that out."

"I'm fine," he protested without feeling.

Clank and Bobble pushed him over to her workbench chair.

"She's good with splinters," Bobble said.

"Miss Bell got a big one out of the tiny tip of my finger once," Clank smiled and shoved him into the chair.

"No, really," he protested and turned green when she came over with tweezers and a magnifying glass.

Tink stopped. "Do you have a weak stomach, Terence?" she asked in surprise.

"What?! No! I just...I'm..." he answered weakly.

She stroked his cheek. "Hey, look at me," she said softly.

His eyes glided up to hers.

"Close your eyes and count to ten. I promise it won't hurt."

He did, Clank and Bobble ready to catch him. "...seven...eight..."

"Done!"

His eyes opened and he looked down at his hand in surprise. She held up the offending splinter in her tweezers with a smile.

"See? She's right stealthy with those tweezers," Clank grinned. Then he and Bobble went back to work.

She pecked a kiss on Terence's cheek and tossed the splinter in her trashcan. When she turned back to Terence, he was studying her, the look in his eyes not as guarded as it had been the past week.

Clarion paced in the living room early that morning, nibbling her nail nervously while Spruce did a full exam on Milori in the bedchamber. She had practically begged Milori to let her stay because she wanted to know what Milori's injuries were and how he had obtained them. Milori had been firm about his answer and had almost bitten her head off when she had pushed the matter. Spruce had calmly stepped in and told her that right now it was important for Milori to have medical care and be cooperative than have her involved right now. So she had relented and had been staring at the clock for the past half hour.

Spruce finally exited and shut the door behind himself.

She hurried over, but he held out a hand to prevent her from entering.

"I need to speak with you for a moment," he said seriously.

She looked up into his eyes to see him disturbed. "What's wrong?"

He guided her out to the porch and closed the door. Then he walked over to lean his back against the post and rest his medical bag on the wood railing, facing her in the early morning sunlight of spring. "I suspect you've figured it out by now that these nine soldiers were captured by the enemy."

"I gathered as much, yes." She folded her arms over her chest, afraid what she was about to hear.

"It's incredibly important for you to be supportive of him. He's going to have nightmares and be ashamed sometimes for you to see him vulnerable. Mentally and emotionally these nine are extremely fragile right now. They will all be very cautious in whom they let in and very quick to shut out anyone whom they feel is judging them. I'm not sure how he's going to react, but I suspect he's the type who will try to push you away and hide his emotional pain, thinking he's protecting you."

"I don't understand. Why would he be ashamed?" she frowned. "I only want to help him. I did this to him."

He shook his head. "Don't blame yourself because this will make him feel guilty for not being the same as he was before he left. That's the worst thing you can do," he explained.

She held her temples and shook her head in confusion. "What happened to him?"

A deep sigh escaped him. "I'm not sure if it's best for me or him to tell you."

"He told you?"

"Some and some I guessed based on the physical evidence, and he didn't confirm or deny it."

"Please, I need to know so I can help him," she pleaded.

He set a hand on her shoulder for a moment. "I think you need to try getting him to talk to you first. We need to tell him first if I'm to tell you about anything."

"Of course." She looked down at the porch floor in thought. "Physically, is there anything I should know if he's too stubborn to tell me?" Then she looked up at him.

Running a hand over his face as if exhausted himself, he answered, "He needs to stay in bed for a couple days. His thigh wound is infected, so I had to reopen it. I haven't stitched it to let the infection out, so it will be difficult getting it to heal. Unfortunately, it's too soon to tell if he'll have a permanent limp. It's also extremely important that he does his back exercises twice a day now. I'll be by daily to check on his leg and do his wing exercises."

"I should ask him what happened to his back, I presume?"

"If he'll tell you. Send for me if he has any new pain, especially if it's in his abdomen. I don't think he has internal injuries, but I'm not certain." He stifled a yawn.

"Are the other soldiers alright?"

He nodded. "A few broken bones and bruises; Lord Milori bore the worst of it," he said with regret for Milori.

"Are you holding up alright?" She set a hand on his arm.

"Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure," he smiled.

She entered the bedchamber quietly, not wanting to wake Milori if he was sleeping.

He was awake and propped up slightly with pillows, his eyes focused out the window.

"Are you hungry or anything?" she asked and padded over to him in her bare feet.

"Spruce says you continued the search for several days after everyone thought the war had ended," he said, his voice still scratchy and rough. "Military protocol for us is to continue only twenty four hours." He kept his eyes focused out the window to spring on his left, his body tense as he waited for her answer.

She stood at the foot of the bed studying his profile, unsure if he was angry with her. "I will regret it every day for the rest of my life that I gave up," she replied with tears in her eyes.

"I feared you trying to follow us and getting slaughtered, so I made sure our trail was invisible," he whispered.

Slowly walking over to the spring side of the bed, she climbed up and sat facing him. "I died a thousand deaths every moment that I thought you were gone," she croaked, her face crumpling. "I can't live without you."

His eyes finally turned to her, but they were haunted and so ancient. "Every scream from my lips wasn't my last only because you told me you'd love me when I came back, no matter how many appendages were missing," he said in a thick voice with shame and tears shimmering in his eyes. "But does that include being broken? Because I have been broken in so many ways."

"I see a man who is noble and strong...and hurt. But I love him more fiercely with each day. To me, he is not broken but has wounds where he needs help healing," she vowed with passion. Then she gazed deeply into his heart. "I am blessed to hold the love from a man who is a hero to our kingdom." She gently took his battered hand in hers. "I see what you cannot, Milori-I see you becoming the man legends are made of. I must ask you to trust me when you doubt yourself or me or us. You have guided me so many times when I have been lost; let me help guide you."

He swallowed hard, his heart deeply touched.

"I have two questions for you right now that I'm hoping you'll answer. First, I'm worried why you have bruises on your throat and why your voice is so rough. You don't have to tell me right now why, but I want to know if it's a serious injury."

His eyes immediately dropped down to their joined hands as if he was ashamed. Suddenly, his chin quivered and he looked at her with tears brimming. "I never once betrayed you," he croaked.

Her face crumpled and a sob escaped her both upon seeing his pain and the fact that he thought he needed to tell her that. "I never doubted you," she sniffled and stroked his cheek, softly brushing away his tear with her thumb.

"A rope," he said. "They wanted to know if you would die if your wings were damaged."

"What did they do with the rope?" she silently wept, sensing he needed her to not fall apart even though her heart lay bleeding on the floor for him.

He looked down at their hands. "Spruce said the pressure caused inflammation that will of away in a couple days," he replied without answering her question directly.

Leaning forward, she gently bent down to brush a kiss over his neck, not realizing her tear fell on his bare chest.

Then she kissed under his ear and his cheek, sensing him soaking in her love like a man in the desert without water.

"Spruce said you need to do back exercises twice a day. What are the marks on your back?" She sat back and brought his hand to her lips for a tender kiss. When he shook his head, she knew he had reached his limit of sharing for now. With an understanding nod, she softly brushed a lock of his loose hair away from his face.

There was so much hardship and sorrow in his eyes that it broke her heart. He needed medicine that she was ready to give him.

"One more question," she whispered and gave a soft smile.

She saw him intrigued what had her no longer so serious. "Is it wrong that right now I really want to tear my clothes off and make myself your mate?" she blushed. She spread dust over his ribs and held her hand there to help speed his healing, anticipating his reaction that she was hoping for.

Clarion said it with such a straight face that he blinked. Then he burst out laughing, whimpering softly as he held his injured ribs that didn't hurt quite so much at the moment with her dust. "Ah, Clarion, you are good for me," he sighed happily.

She grinned and her glow was brighter, so incredibly happy to see him smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Gliss and Fawn were kind enough to get groceries for Clarion to stock up the cottage while Milori convalesced. Clarion was up to her elbows in flour while she worked on making bread when she heard noise in the bedroom. She frowned. Milori was sleeping when she had left. Leaving her dough on the table, she went into the bedroom to see him with pants on and sitting on the edge of the bed trying to get up. He had detached the intravenous line that still had a small amount of her sugar in the bag.

"What in Neverland do you think you're doing?" she scolded and wiped her hands on her apron as she hurried over.

"You can't come in winter with your wings bare," he quickly pointed out right before she crossed, his voice still rough.

So she grabbed her cape that Gliss had thoughtfully brought and then crossed over to stop him.

"Clarion," he warned, glancing up at her.

She bent down to set her hands on his knees and looked him in the eye. "I can get anything you need."

He cocked an eyebrow. "I need the washroom."

"There is a basin I left for you."

Both of his eyebrows shot up. "I don't think so," he snorted and held his ribs as he tried to scoot closer to the edge of the bed.

Keeping pressure on his knees, she sighed. "Are you really going to be this stubborn? Spruce said you must remain in bed because of your leg. I can feel the heat of the infection through your pants down to your knee."

He opened his mouth, his eyes angry. Then he shut his mouth as if rethinking his words. With a clenched jaw, he ground out, "I am not having the queen empty my basin when I'm perfectly capable of getting to the washroom."

She realized it was stinging pride that she was fighting, so she decided to let him have some dignity. "You must promise that you'll use the cane. Spruce doesn't know if the limp could be permanent. We have to care for your leg properly. I will help you this once, but then I want Spruce to examine it before we do it again. Deal?"

Milori looked at her dryly. "I'm not striking a deal to use the washroom, Clarion!" he barked, losing patience.

She saw that this wasn't an effective approach, so she knelt to be almost eye level. He sighed and rolled his eyes, which stung her because it was so unlike him to be disrespectful to her. But she knew he was irritable, tired and sore, so she ignored it.

"Milori, I have no idea what I'm doing, but I'm trying to do my best," she said honestly, hoping if she took the vulnerable approach he would soften. "I'm trying to balance your pride with your physical needs, and sometimes I'm going to mess up. I need you to work with me, not fight me. I love you and just want what's best for you."

His eyes were hard. "I'm not a child," he growled. Then he grabbed the bedpost and pulled himself up, forcing her to move aside or be knocked backwards. He panted heavily in pain and snatched up his crude cane, leaning on furniture and the cane to make his way across the room to the master washroom.

She stood quickly and was trying to slip under his arm to help take his weight when he jerked his arm away. She stood there, confused, hurt and not knowing what to do as he slipped into the washroom and slammed the door.

He leaned his hand on the counter at the sink and closed his eyes. He didn't need her pity.

Silently turning around, she walked back out to the kitchen with a heavy heart. She listened closely to him shuffle out a minute later, waiting for him to fall or get hurt. When there was silence and she heard the scrape of the ice blanket, she knew he was back in bed. Not sure what to do, she finally decided on giving him space and staying in the kitchen making food and trying to convince herself that he was just irritable and this would pass.

It was an hour later when she entered with a tray of food, not surprised that he had removed the intravenous port from his hand even though there was a little sugar left in the bag. She set down the tray on her side of the bed beside him where he sat up in bed. He kept his eyes focused down on his hands in his lap.

"Do you need anything else?" she asked quietly.

"You need to leave. Sled or someone else can be here," he answered gruffly.

She swallowed hard, not having seen that knife coming that he drove into her heart. She didn't know how much was good to fight him right now, so she blinked back her tears. "I wish I could do it over again and not declare war," she said softly, her heart tearing apart. "I don't blame you for hating me because I hate myself for what I did to you," she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. Then she turned and started to walk out.

"I hate your pity!" he exploded.

She spun around, surprised by his temper as much as the fact he was speaking to her.

He held his side, clearly causing himself pain but needing to unleash his emotions. His eyes were fierce and hard. "I hate that I came back to you like this! I hate that I can't fly and now I have trouble walking! I hate you seeing me like this! I hate that you want to be here when I don't want you here!" he shouted, the veins in his neck pulsing. Tears gathered in his eyes. "Most of all, I hate that I'm here where we were supposed to build a life together! I'm not capable anymore of being a mate or a father! I have seen things that would make you scream to hear! I don't trust myself to not lash out and hit you!"

That last sentence startled her, and he saw it.

His temper died slightly, finally getting his dark secret out. A tear fell down his cheek. "I have so much anger that I'm afraid of myself. I don't want you here because I'm terrified I'll hurt you. I was confused last night, and I almost killed you thinking my dream was real. They tortured me, Clarion. They did things that are too dark for you to know. They put me on the rack, Clarion, wrapping the rope around my neck instead of my hands."

She stopped breathing, her heart fluttering to make another beat because of the horror that filled it. Tears fell down her face freely, and she felt ready to get ill.

He swallowed hard, no longer fighting the tears that slipped down his cheeks. "My back...they whipped me. The lake did much more healing than what you see. Those were the gentle things they did, Clarion. I told them I was your mate so they wouldn't hurt the other soldiers. But I did not once betray you," he sniffled and shook his head. "Do not make me do it now that I'm home," he begged.

She openly wept, finally having a glimpse at some of the horrors he had faced. Taking deep breaths to calm herself, she croaked, "I will leave for now only because you want space, but I won't stay away. I love you so much." She slipped onto her side of the bed, scooting down the tray, and gently wiped away his tears. "I love you more for what you have endured. Never for a second would I dishonor you with pity."

He sniffled and cupped his hand over hers on his cheek, his eyes searching hers.

"I wish you could be in my heart because then you would believe me that there is nothing you could do that should make you feel ashamed." She laid her hands over her heart, desperately wishing she could make him believe. "You don't even know that you are noble to a fault. I don't believe that you would ever hurt me, even by accident. I trust you so completely," she whispered. "But I know you need time to trust yourself."

His face crumpled. "I'm doing this because I love you."

She nodded. "I know. I love you, Milori." She set her forehead against his and closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I want to come see you every day. I don't think it's good for us to stay apart."

He nodded and turned his head slightly to kiss her palm. "I'm sorry. I know I promised we would be together when I returned."

She brushed a kiss over his lips. "We will in time, Milori. You are stronger than you realize, and I won't let you go this time." Her voice cracked and then she started crying harder.

"Clarion?" he asked with concern.

Pulling back slightly, she shook her head and covered her mouth with her hand. "I think I'm just tired." She started to pull away but he caught her hand.

"Please. I don't want you to go this upset," he pleaded, the tears still in his own eyes.

"It's so stupid. I just realized we haven't even really kissed since you returned. Shouldn't I have realized something was wrong before this? I've been shoving myself on you and didn't even see that you didn't want it," she wept with a broken heart and tried to get up.

He swallowed hard and grabbed her other arm to stop her. "Look at me," he said in a thick voice.

She reluctantly did.

"I am not rejecting you. You don't need to be humiliated. I need space because I'm so messed up right now." He brushed a lock of hair back from her face, his eyes holding hers firmly. He saw an emotion flicker through her eyes. "Clarion, why are you ashamed? Talk to me."

"Spruce said if I didn't do this right, you'd push me away. I'm sorry, I thought I was doing what you needed," she hiccuped.

He cupped her face between his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Listen to me. This is not your fault."

"It's not yours," she protested.

"It's something that happened, and we have to figure out how to deal with it. I know I've been difficult today. I just need some space to deal with some things without worrying about you watching." He wiped away her tear.

She sniffled. "But shouldn't you want me here? We're not doing something right."

"Sweetheart, there is no book for this. It doesn't mean that we're going to fall apart if you aren't here to see me have tantrums," he said with a hint of a smile.

She gave a watery laugh and brushed at her eyes. Then she was serious. "Promise me that you aren't doing the same thing as with your wings by gradually pushing me away. I swear I will come to the North Woods this time. It can't kill me being I'm part winter fairy now."

His face fell upon seeing how deeply she still hurt from that after all of these years. "I promise."

She wrapped her arms around his neck carefully and laid her head on his shoulder. "I love you so much."

He held her close, carefully pulling her into his lap. "I love you too, sweetheart. I won't leave here because I don't want you venturing into winter."

"But if you don't want to be here..."

"I'm just frustrated because I thought we'd be here as mates. Will you do a little decorating when you come visit? Make it feel more like home?"

She pulled back. "Really?"

He nodded. "I have something I want you to have Gliss bring tomorrow."

She hugged him. "We'll make it home," she promised.

"Come in the mornings, if you can? I have a feeling by the end of the days I'll be sore and cranky."

She brushed a kiss over his lips, her heart aching at having to leave him.

In her own bed that night at the castle, she couldn't sleep. Padding over to the window, she opened it to look out and see the soft glow of the cabin. Sitting down at the window seat, she read over the welcome home plans that Tink and her friends proposed for the Lost Heroes to be held at the castle.

Clarion had gone to visit the other Lost Heroes, many of them only needing stitches or casts. A handful of them were left in the hospital because they had needed surgery to repair broken bones, but they were in high spirits and anxious to return home. Icicle had been in high spirits and back at home with only a broken arm. Thomas was also at home, his wife more than happy to attend to him while he was laid up in bed with a broken leg. One thing she noticed about all of them was their high spirits and lack of more than a couple injuries.

Thomas had been her last visit. She had sat in a chair in the bedchamber next to his bed, his wife had been in the kitchen making dinner.

"Thomas, I have a private question that I trust you'll answer honestly," she said near the end of the visit.

He nodded.

"I notice His Lordship has more injuries than the others. He said that he told the Alamur that he was my mate..." she ventured, unsure how to phrase her question.

"You want to know why." He sighed. "You of all fairies know he's too noble." He grew quiet as if distressed by what he was about to say. "The Alamur captured us and threatened to kill us through torture. They took us to their home somewhere far away in the stars. Their path was so convoluted that Milori and I could not backtrack it in a thousand years. We were thrown into separate cells and each taken out one by one and questioned about you by torture. It is how we each got our injuries. Lord Milori got his ribs broken as his torture when he finally lied that he was your mate." He swallowed hard. "They threw the rest of us back in our cells, and for two days we heard Lord Milori's screams," he said in a thick voice. "We frantically tried to break out, but these cells were made of a stone none of us had seen, and it was incredibly strong. Not even Icicle's freeze shattered the bars. When they finally threw Lord Milori back in his cell, he laid on the floor for hours and didn't move." He looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold back his tears. "They dragged him out again, literally dragging him between them because he was so weak." He released a deep breath, his voice cracking as he said, "He came back hours later with his back slashed apart from a whipping. Icicle was in the cell beside him, and he frosted Lord Milori's back as best he could without being able to reach him. He never once made a peep or begged when the Alamur came to drag him out again." A tear fell down his cheek. "I have nightmares hearing his screams echoing down the halls. When they literally threw him into his cell again, he slammed into the bars nearest Icicle. He held out a shaking hand to Icicle and said, 'Use my talents. I don't know if I can survive another torture.' You see, his wing support structure had been broken this time, releasing raw dust throughout his body. Raw dust is powerful. He released it to Icicle, who had the strength to blast through the bars. I think it was the rage over what they had done to our lord that let us take down the rest of the Alamur and bring Lord Milori home. Icicle was able to use some of Lord Milori's talents to heal him on the way home. That and sheer stubbornness were the only things that allowed Lord Milori to walk into that throne room."

She had been softly sobbing upon hearing the tale, and he handed her a handkerchief.

"I hear that Tinkerbell is helping plan a welcome home party to honor us." He had looked her in the eye and shook his head. "The other soldiers will agree with me that there is only one hero among the nine of us."

She looked out her window and knew that hero didn't see himself as such, and he wouldn't appreciate a celebration in his honor. She was even more worried about his back now. Whatever had happened to his wing support frame must have not been a complete break because he was still alive.

The light in the cabin was still on, so she grabbed a guard and her cape and then left.

Sled answered the door with a bow, surprised to see her. He ushered her inside.

"Can you ask him if I may speak to him for a moment?" She held the edges of her cape tightly, expecting Milori to deny her.

Sled nodded and disappeared into the room. He came out a moment later. "You can come in."

She hurried past, not even noticing Sled closing the bedchamber door behind her.

Milori was propped up slightly with several pillows behind his back because she suspected it was hurting him.

"Is everything alright?" he asked in concern and took her hand as soon as she reached him and knelt on the floor.

"I couldn't wait until morning to see you," she said, searching his gentle eyes. "Before you get angry, hear me out." She relayed what Thomas had said, his eyes hooded from all emotion. But then she continued to speak, holding his hand in hers. Tears danced in her eyes when she said, "I don't know the full story, but I do know you sacrificed so much through your valor and loyalty, Milori. I'm ashamed to admit to you that I don't think I would have had your strength to endure such tortures." A tear slipped down her cheek. "I realize that such honor has come at a high price to you." She kissed his knuckles in the manner that others did to her as a sign of the highest respect saved only for the queen. "I am humbled to have such a fairy not only stand by my side but offer me his love."

His eyes softened but he looked uncomfortable. "Don't kiss my hand. It is not a glorious thing I did. I was simply loyal to my queen," he said, confused why she was acting so.

She gave a soft smile. "A true hero is one who doesn't realize it," she said softly and raised up on her knees to brush a kiss over his lips. "I just wanted you to know that I love you."

He frowned in confusion. "I know. You shouldn't venture out in the dark, sweetheart. Go home before it gets late. Be careful."

With a nod, she got up, slightly saddened that her words were lost on him for she wanted him to feel the depth of her emotions as she was feeling them. She had hoped her words would help heal him in some way. She walked to the door.

"Sweetheart?"

She turned.

"I love you."

A smile spread over her lips. "I love you too."

When she left, he laid a hand over his heart and closed his eyes, unable to hold back any longer the tears that leaked out behind his eyelids. Her words had cut him to the core of his pain and left a balm that he felt spreading through his heart. She didn't even realize that she had been his beacon, his strength during his darkest hours. It wasn't her words just now but her admiration and innocence that moved him, making him want to be a better man for her. She had so much faith in him. He wasn't ready for anyone to witness his tears. He wasn't ready for anyone to see that days of unspeakable tortures hadn't brought him to his knees inside-the gentleness of an angel had.


	4. Chapter 4

Clarion had to restrain herself from leaving at sunrise to see Milori. She packed a breakfast of cinnamon rolls and headed out with a guard and her cape, excited to see Milori.

When she arrived at the cabin, Spruce was just leaving. She hurried over to him with a frown. "Good morning, Spruce. Is everything alright?"

He gave a bow, his bag in hand. "It was a difficult night for him. His leg is quite infected and a fever has set in. I've started him on around-the-clock compresses and intravenous medicine. He didn't sleep much last night."

"Have you been here all night?"

"For about three hours trying to get his fever under control. I'll be back shortly after lunch."

She knocked on the door when Spruce left and was surprised to see Dewey answer.

"Thank goodness you're here. I was just going to come for you. He kept saying something about your skin." He ushered her inside.

Immediately going to the bedchamber, she saw Sled bathing Milori's damp brow with ice water. Milori's cheeks were flushed and he looked awful. She walked over and Sled got up for her to take his spot.

"Thank you," she said softly and took the basin he held out to her.

"He's drifting in and out of sleep," he whispered. "He needs frosting every ten minutes and constant bathing of his brow and torso to keep down the fever."

She nodded and turned to Milori, who appeared to be asleep. "Go rest, Sled. I'll take over for awhile. Thank you."

Clarion gently bathed his brow and torso that was free of bandages. He had severe bruising over his broken ribs. She carefully pulled aside the blanket from his thigh, careful to keep him covered because she suspected all of his clothes had been removed. There were red streaks spidering out from the wound that was inflamed and hot with infection. Then she suddenly realized what Milori was trying to tell Dewey. She felt bad doing it, but she softly shook his shoulder. "Sweetheart, I need you to wake up for a moment."

His eyes fluttered open, too ill to react to seeing her.

"I'm going to see if I can help heal you, but I need you to tell me if it hurts."

He gave a weak nod.

She got up and closed the door. Then she walked over to the spring side of the bed and helped scoot him into her side of the bed so her wings could be bare. He turned his head away when she slipped off her dress and under the blanket. She carefully climbed on top of him, goosebumps shooting through her at his cold temperature. His brow furrowed in pain from even her small weight on his battered body.

"I'm sorry," she said softly and ran her hand over his torso that, although bruised and injured, felt so perfectly muscled and powerful under her hand. His dust started to rise to the surface, and she pressed her skin to his. She gritted her teeth as icy coldness swept through her.

He gasped and his face contorted in pain as heat shot through him, encircling and penetrating his injuries. His hands grabbed her arms, trying to hold out as the heat ignited into lapping flames. "I can't," he panted seconds later.

She slid off, wrapping her cape around herself for the moment, and checked his ribs first. The bruising was faded. Gently applying the slightest pressure, she felt his ribs. "Does it hurt?"

"Tender but not like before," he panted. "Are you too cold?"

She shook her head even though she had dozens of goosebumps. Then she moved down to his leg, which was still red and inflamed but looked so much better and had some light scarring now. He felt warm, so she focused hard on her hands and skimmed them over him without touching his skin. A very light frost trailed behind her fingers, turning his skin back to its pale color. "Turn over," she instructed.

He didn't move. "You're too cold."

"I'll take a warm shower when we're done. Let me fix your back."

He shook his head.

"Why? I'll just do your waist up," she frowned.

A self-conscious look overcame him. "You saw it in dim light. The scars are showing up now that the welts are dissipating," he said quietly, his voice slightly less rough than yesterday. "I just...I'm not ready for you to see it." He looked up at her with sad eyes.

This wasn't the time to argue with him. "Can you sit up? I'll sit with my back to yours and won't look. I'm worried about your support frame being injured, Milori. I don't know what I was thinking not helping you like this sooner," she apologized.

"I wasn't desperate enough to sacrifice my pride then," he admitted.

Her brow furrowed sadly, and she pulled her cape around herself tighter, self-conscious now that he was rejecting her help. Tears sprang to her eyes, hurt that he had to sacrifice pride to take her intimate healing. She was now mortified that she had been undressed and pressed against him when he apparently found it distasteful. She snatched up her dress and went into the washroom. Once she shut the door, she frantically brushed at her tears, willing them to stop as she got dressed as fast as she could. Then she opened the door, not even glancing at him in bed. "I have to go," she said and made a beeline straight for the door as fast as possible.

She grabbed the doorknob but a large hand leaned on the door, holding it shut. Cool breath tickled the right side of her neck, and a strong left arm wrapped around her waist. She didn't move, feeling the coldness of him through her clothes. The scent of evergreen swam up around her.

"I didn't mean it like it sounded," he whispered in her right ear, his voice husky and also a bit dangerous sounding with the scratchiness still present. His hand trailed up her arm softly, leaving a sprinkling of white dust.

She closed her eyes as they rolled back, his scent and feel intoxicating. "Stop," she whispered. "You're fevered and don't know what you want."

"I feel much better, thanks to you," he said huskily and kissed the side of her neck.

A sigh escaped her lips and she leaned back against him involuntarily. Her skin tingled and grew warm where he gently nipped at her neck. Her hands wrapped around his arm holding her waist as her head tilted back to give him free access to her neck. "Your words are good at slicing lately," she breathed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and ran his free hand down her side and over her hip. "I'm glad that you want to help, sweetheart. I'm having a hard time being so dependent on everyone, and that's all I meant. And I'm self-conscious, Clarion. I can't fly and now I have a limp and so many scars. Sometimes I'm going to say things that I don't mean or come out wrong. I try not to, but call me on it, Clarion. Being injured is no excuse for hurting you. I'm talking to Spruce and Dewey, trying to figure out how to handle this anger." He kissed her shoulder gently. "Tell me what you're thinking."

She lifted her head off his shoulder and kept her eyes on the door. "It was humiliating after the fact to find out you found it distasteful," she said quietly.

"What? I never...Clarion, I'm sorry that you thought that's what I meant," he apologized, clearly surprised. "Under no circumstances could I ever find you less than beautiful." He wrapped both arms around her. "I'm sorry, Clarion. No matter how angry I get, I promise I would never say or think something cruel like that. If we were mates, I'd show you just how beautiful I find your body."

She bit her lip, sensing that he was being sincere.

"Do you want to go?"

She heard the anxiety in his voice.

"I will not stay and be a punching bag," she replied firmly.

He was silent for a moment. "I'm hurting you by having you around, aren't I?" he asked rhetorically. His hand absently stroked over her stomach. "I don't want to damage us, sweetheart. I'm so messed up right now that maybe it's better for you to not come around for a couple weeks," he said, his heart breaking but only wanting what was best for her.

Shaking her head, she answered, "We're go through this together. There is no picking and choosing."

A soft puff of air tickled her neck, and she knew he was smiling. "I won't object if you're ready for a hard road, sweetheart. I can't promise I won't get snarly and angry sometimes, but I'll try to watch my temper," he warned.

"Milori, we either get through things together or not at all. We will stumble and fall, but we will be that much stronger when we pull each other up," she said with such certainty.

"I want to do it together," he whispered. "I want to fight for us."

She felt his heart pounding against her back and knew he was as nervous as her what the future might hold for them. She started to turn in his arms, but he held her hips tight. "You're naked, aren't you?" she giggled.

"I was worried about you leaving upset and didn't think about clothes," he replied.

She looked up over her shoulder to see his cheeks turning pink. A smile crossed her lips. "You are in a predicament," she teased.

"I know," he answered dryly. "You're still cold. You head for the shower, and be chivalrous and don't look. I'll get us some cinnamon rolls that I smell," he blushed.

She smiled and carefully turned with him to face the washroom door. Then he let her go and she headed straight into the washroom with a giggle.

She closed the heavy door and turned on the hot shower, tying up her hair to stay dry.

He slipped on his pants and grabbed his cane to limp into the kitchen when he heard soft singing. He paused at first, not sure where the sound was coming from because he didn't recognize the voice. Then he realized the strong female voice was coming from the washroom. He sat on the edge of the bed and listened, smiling in surprise. He had expected a delicate voice, but hers was feminine yet strong and slightly deeper than expected. He found that he liked it much more than a soft voice he had expected. Her octave range was impressive, but the emotion behind it is what moved him. She sang with her heart, as he should have expected.

She exited, a few minutes later, warmed up and dressed. And she stopped in her tracks with huge eyes when she saw Milori sitting on the edge of the bed with a smile and no cinnamon rolls. "Oh Neverland, you could hear through the door, couldn't you?" she gasped.

He smiled tenderly and pushed himself to his feet with his cane. "It was beautiful," he replied and stepped forward to wrap an arm around her.

She felt his brow. "Are you feeling better?"

He nodded, leaning his head down to her.

She suddenly pulled back. "Where is your I.V.! Get in bed! You might still need the medicine!" she scolded and started herding him back into bed.

He climbed in bed obediently and let her hook the line up again.

"Now, stay in bed. I'll bring in breakfast."

She fretted when he barely ate and then pushed aside his plate.

He noticed her gaze on the plate. "We weren't fed," he explained quietly. "If I eat small potions, it stays down. Spruce said in a few days it'll be back to normal."

"Are you still hungry?" she asked in concern.

He shrugged and reclined back against the pillows, a grimace of pain crossing his face.

Taking his dishes out to the kitchen, she quickly ate the rest of her breakfast so she wouldn't have to make Milori watch. Then she got some cold soup out of the refrigerator and carried it to him.

"I assume you don't eat warm soup? Perhaps you can sip on this slowly so you won't feel hungry."

He gave a distracted smile and shifted again.

She sat on the edge of her side of the bed. "Milori, let me help you with your back. I promise not to look." She took his hand and laced her fingers with his.

He took a deep breath and looked her in the eye as if debating.

"It hurts you. It's up to you when you are ready for me to see your back, but I don't want it to build into a big monster we have to conquer either."

He swallowed hard. "It looks awful," he said nervously.

She stroked his cheek. "It doesn't have to be done today, honey."

"It will turn into a monster the longer we go."

She brushed a kiss over his lips. "I don't love you for your back," she whispered.

He slowly turned over onto his stomach, and she had to clasp a hand over her mouth to stop her cry of horror.


	5. Chapter 5

Rosetta flew over to Tink on the way to work. "Hi there, Tink!"

"Rosetta, hi!"

They continued flying together through the hustle and bustle of Pixie Hollow, dodging some ladybugs who went zooming past.

"So I was wondering, Tink," Rosetta said with a delicate wave of her hand. "Do you know who the winter fairy was who was helping Lord Milori out of the throne room?"

She blinked. "No. Why?" Then her eyes got wide. "Oh! Is that him?"

Rosetta blushed.

"He's cute," she giggled.

"No, he's dreamy," she sighed longingly.

"I'll ask around and see who knows," Tink promised.

Clarion's hand shook as she slowly reached down and hovered her fingers to frost his back.

He had more than a dozen deep, two- to four-inch whip slashes from his lower shoulders to his waist that cross-haired over each other in some spots. A few of the less deep slices were lightly scarring with thick, raised skin from where Frost Lake must have started some healing. His wing support structure had a crook in it between his wings where it must be fractured. Somehow his wings were untouched.

He turned his head on the pillow to look at her over his shoulder. "You don't have to touch it," he said in understanding.

Tears fell down her face. "How can you even move? The cuts go down through the muscle," she sniffled. "Is Spruce giving you pain medicine?"

"Every twelve hours," he answered quietly, his eyes nervous and studying her reaction.

Leaning down, she kissed his cheek. "I'm scared that I'll hurt you." She brushed the back of her hands over her eyes. "Should I frost it first? Maybe Spruce should be here."

"It has been frozen, but it won't heal any further. There's nothing more Spruce can do besides keep out infection."

"Maybe it won't hurt so much if it's frosted."

"Sweetheart, after everything I've been through the past week, I don't think a healing is going to be more than I can handle," he said with a slight smile.

She started to set her hand down and then got up. "I'm going to wash my hands just to make sure."

She came back a minute later and released a deep breath in an attempt to steady her hands. "Ready?"

He nodded and grabbed handfuls of the pillow, turning his face into it as if ready to scream.

Clarion shot to her feet again.

He sighed and looked at her. "Clarion, you're making me stressed. Just do it."

"When was your last pain dose?"

"I'm not due again until sunset. Please, just do it," he begged with a nervous laugh.

"No, I want him here to control the pain."

She sent a missive to Spruce through Sled.

There was a knock on the bedchamber door a bit later, and she answered it to see Spruce. "Oh, I didn't mean you had to come. Did you get enough sleep?" She stepped aside for him to enter.

"I got a nap in." He walked over to Milori, who was still on his stomach, too sore to move. "She broke the fever," he smiled.

"I think I can heal his back a little too but wasn't sure if it would hurt him too much without frosting or more pain medicine."

He walked over to the winter side of the bed, dug in his bag and pulled out a syringe. "It probably would be very painful."

She sat on her side of the bed and stroked Milori's bicep where he had his arms tucked under his pillow.

"Here we go," Spruce warned and injected Milori's other bicep.

Milori grimaced.

Her heart broke seeing even an injection cause him pain.

Then Spruce looked to her. "Frost him. In about five minutes the med will take effect."

She lightly frosted his back, her heartbeat drumming in her ears as she waited for him to scream in agony.

He closed his eyes in relief from the pain.

After a few minutes, she gently laid a hand over his back where Spruce suggested she start healing. Thankfully, Milori started getting drowsy.

"I gave a mild sedative with it," Spruce whispered to her.

Milori gave a soft, drugged groan of pain as she moved her hands around his back, slowly healing it a bit to light pink scars. "Almost done," she promised.

When she was finished, Spruce quickly grabbed her painfully cold hands and plunged them into a bowl of warm water. She whimpered, the temperature feeling like she had thrusted her hands into a fire.

Milori rolled onto his side, his eyes slightly unfocused. He took her hands in his and rubbed, their dusts reacting to quickly heal the frostbite. "Are you alright?" he slurred.

"Yes, are you?"

He grunted in agreement.

Spruce was already examining his back. "Are you steady enough to sit up?"

They helped him, and he swayed slightly from the drug. She held him steady by the shoulders as Spruce pressed on his back.

Milori gasped and closed his eyes, holding onto Clarion's arms.

Spruce slowly lifted Milori's wings. "It'll hurt less doing your exercises now than later after the med wears off," he apologized.

His brow and chest grew damp, and Milori blinked hard as if losing his vision. "Clarion, I have to lie down," he panted.

She glanced at Spruce, who stopped, and gently started to lower Milori. Suddenly, Milori's eyes rolled back and he became a dead weight as he fainted; Spruce shot his arms out to help catch Milori.

Once he was tucked in bed, she sat down and stroked his hair while he was unconscious. "Spruce?" she whispered with tears in her eyes.

He was pressing on Milori's back, trying to work out terrible knots that would grow worse and start causing immobility. He grunted.

"Is his support frame broken?"

He stopped and sighed. His blue eyes met hers with concern. "It is. I'm not sure how how he's alive. I don't know if he realizes yet that he can't move his broken wing anymore. I was hoping to avoid it, but he needs surgery. With your healing, he will have less pain than now, almost immediately. I'd like your permission to perform surgery now while he's already sedated. It will just take a few minutes."

Lifting her head out of the basin a bit later, she felt Milori lay a cold hand on the back of her neck to help calm the nausea.

She rinsed her mouth and turned to him. "It's not your back," she promised. "I don't have a stomach for surgeries."

Spruce took the basin for her. "It was a very graphic surgery. If she couldn't heal you, you'd be in the hospital for a couple weeks," he told Milori from the washroom.

Milori pulled her into his lap in bed and held her close. "Thank you, sweetheart. You're doing so much." Then he kissed her brow and rested his cheek on her head, hoping his coolness would help with her rolling stomach. "Does my back bother you at all?" he asked seriously.

She wrapped her arms around his lower back and rested her cheek on his cool chest. "No, it just bothers me what they did to you." She scooted out of his lap in embarrassment when Spruce came back out.

A tender smile stretched Milori's lips and he winked at her, adoring her shyness.

A pink blush spread up her cheeks.

Spruce stood on the winter side of bed expectantly, and Milori looked up at him. "Have you tried to move your wings since you returned?"

He shook his head. "My back has been too sore until now. You know I have trouble opening them anyways," he frowned in confusion.

"I suspect the fracture in your support frame has further limited movement," Spruce said quietly.

Milori's brow furrowed and he glanced at Clarion. He sat upright and she moved aside the pillows to make room for his wings to open.

Spruce pressed on a spot under Milori's broken wing to ease the movement with the arthritis.

She watched in concern, his good wing slowly lifting, with effort, but his broken one not even flinching. His brow furrowed, and she suspected he could feel it not moving.

Lightly tapping the wing, Spruce watched for any sign of movement. Then he started tapping around the joint. The wing didn't even twitch at the reflex points. "Can you feel anything?" He carefully rubbed the wing between his fingers.

Milori shook his head, his eyes on Clarion and his mind clearly on something else.

"What's wrong?" she inquired.

His face fell. "Spruce, must both wings be flapping to release dust for mating?" He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from her face, even when her eyes grew wide with worry and stared at him.

Spruce released a deep sigh and pulled up a chair to sit facing them, his elbows on his knees. "We do know that the altitude and being held by the male trigger's the female to release nectar. It is the nectar that reacts with the male's byproduct compounds in his sugar from flying that trigger the production of white dust. You already have the disadvantage of not being able to fly. I don't know if you'll be able to produce enough dust with only one wing to hold her close enough to mate," he said gently. "As Dewey said, her wings are quite large and would require a fair amount of dust to make sure they're pliable enough that they wouldn't break during mating."

Milori stared down at the blanket, and Clarion's hand slipped into his. "No," she said firmly. "We'll figure something out."

"Clarion," Milori said sadly with slumped shoulders.

"No," she snapped. "I won't bury you again. It will work."

He closed his eyes, his heart aching at hearing her in denial. "And children aren't possible either without flight?" he asked in a thick voice.

"I don't believe so, but no fairy has ever been pregnant before."

"But there's a chance?"

Clarion cleared her throat nervously.

Both males looked at her.

Her face flamed with embarrassment, and she somehow suspected Milori would get angry. Incredibly angry.

"Um, can we have a moment?" she asked Spruce nervously.

Milori took her hands after Spruce left. "Sweetheart? You look upset."

She pulled her hands into her own lap, her stomach suddenly churning. "Um, I need to tell you something, and I don't think you're going to like it." She kept glancing at him every few seconds as if incredibly nervous. "It happened so many years ago that I forgot about it until now. You deserve to hear about it from me."

"Clarion, you don't have to be afraid to tell me something," he frowned and stroked her arm.

"No, I think you're going to be very angry. Um...years ago I was trying to figure out if there was a way for us to have a baby even if we couldn't mate. It was strictly experimental, and Thomas's mate was aware and it didn't mean anything."

He dropped his hand from her arm and his eyes narrowed. "Aware of what?" he demanded with a scowl.

"Um," she shifted nervously. "We only tried it once. Thomas and his mate started to mate in private. When he started to produce the white dust he...he rubbed it on my wings to see if it would trigger my body to become fertile."

"What?" he hissed, not moving a muscle. "What the hell kind of trigger?" he snapped.

"The healer said it triggered me to be fertile for just a few minutes. But the healer thinks I'm fertile only to the seed of the male whose dust is on my wings," she answered in a small voice. "We didn't remove clothes or anything like that," she added quickly.

"You damn well better not have!" he roared, his eyes piercing. He shot up out of bed faster than she thought possible for him and snatched up his cane. He started limping to the door.

"Milori!" she cried and chased after him out into the yard.

He was already on Blizzard and in the air.

Spruce ran out and looked up at Milori flying away. "Where's he going?" he asked from beside her.

"I think we need to go rescue Thomas," she answered, with her eyes on the fading silhouette.

She and Spruce landed an owl just in time to see Thomas's mate open their front door and Milori go charging inside. She looked startled, and Clarion and Spruce jumped off their owl and ran in after him.

They ran into the bedroom to see Milori grab Thomas's collar and punch Thomas's face.

"Ow! What are you doing?!" Thomas barked from his bed and clutched his bloody nose.

"Milori!" Clarion cried in shock from the doorway. Spruce pushed past and Thomas's mate came running up behind her.

"How dare you take advantage of her!" Milori roared. "I should call you out!"

Spruce got between the men and pushed hard against Milori to back him up.

Milori was trembling with anger, his enraged eyes not leaving Thomas.

"What?" Thomas asked in confusion. "Fairies don't call each other out. What are you talking about?" His mate ran over and pressed a leaf handkerchief to his nose before looking at them with wide eyes.

"Easy now," Spruce said calmly. "What's going on?" He kept a firm hand on Milori and looked between the two men.

"He rubbed his dust on Clarion's wings to get her pregnant!" Milori barked, his glaring eyes not leaving Thomas.

Spruce's eyes popped out of his head.

"He was not trying to impregnate me!" Clarion snapped. "Enough!" she ordered as queen. "Get out."

Milori turned in surprise.

"Now," she commanded Milori.

Spruce helped Milori not lose track of which direction he was going, and Clarion turned to Thomas and his mate. "My apologies."

Thomas sighed and nodded.

Then Clarion walked out.

As soon as she stepped outside, Milori was in her path and glaring down and pointing a finger at her. The fact that he had to use a cane to even stand somehow only added to his dangerous aire. "As soon as my leg is able to hold weight, we're mating. And you will be carrying my baby within the year," he growled his promise. His eyes were dark and brooding as they cut through her, every muscle in his body tense with male jealousy.

A shiver ran up her spine at his delicious promise, his jealousy oddly exciting her.

Then he jerked her against him and wrapped his free arm around her. His rough, passionate kiss left her panting and barely able to stand. He ran his hand over her folded wings, leaving a light trail of white dust that made her gasp with desire and instinctively wrap her arms around him, with her heart pounding hard. Her body was drawn to him in a way she'd never felt before, even his breath on her face driving her wild. She stood on her toes to kiss him again, but he pulled his head back. "You will moan more than that when I take you," he promised with dark, possessive desire in his eyes. Her chest heaved and body hummed, his scent suddenly making her weak. He let go of her, limped over to Blizzard and took off, leaving her and Spruce staring after him.

Laying her fingertips to her lips that were still swollen with his kiss, a consuming desire swept over her to unite their bodies this instant. "Oh my," she breathed and swallowed hard, with starry eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Clarion realized that she had forgotten to take Milori the thing he had asked her to bring from Gliss. She thanked Spruce for his help and then left to find Gliss.

She had been shocked when Gliss had brought out the rose Clarion had given to Milori all those centuries ago. It was encased in a block of ice, and several winter fairies had to load it onto Blizzard, who must have dropped off Milori and then sensed Clarion nearby because he suddenly appeared. She flew through winter to the cabin on him and went inside to have Sled help figure out how to get the rose into the cottage.

She walked in and was surprised to find the living room empty. There was noise in the kitchen, and she saw Milori getting a drink of water at the sink with his back to her.

He slammed down the cup and sniffed, smelling a thousand flowers at once and knew it was Clarion. He didn't turn around.

"Milori, I brought the rose," she said carefully, unsure how angry he was yet.

"Thank you. I'll get it later."

"I can have some fairies help. Where are Dewey and Sled?"

"I sent them home. I don't need nursemaids," he growled, his body tense.

"You're still angry, aren't you?" she said more than asked.

A deep sigh escaped him. "I want to know why you did it." He turned and crossed his bare arms over his bare broad chest, leaning against the counter so he didn't need the cane. His mouth was tight and his eyes incredibly displeased. He was the picture of authority and strength.

She threw up her hands. "I don't know! It was almost one hundred and twenty years ago, and I was missing you like crazy. Maybe I snapped and needed to see if maybe I could get you back through a baby. I don't know why I did it, Milori, but I wish I hadn't!"

"And why Thomas? That makes little sense to me why you would choose your captain, whom you've said you don't know that well," he demanded, dropping his arms to point at his chest. "Why not Mary's mate? You're best friends with her!" he flung out his hand.

"Because how awkward would that be going out together to social events?" she snapped. "And it might damage my relationship with Mary. Thomas and I keep a distance and keep it strictly professional. It's less awkward. I'm not exactly close with many other male mated fairies," she barked.

Then the real question came.

His eyes softened and his voice was calm. "Why wouldn't you have asked me if you wanted to know so bad? You wanted to find out if you could have a baby with me, but you use another male to test out a theory?" he asked with a broken heart.

Her heart fell seeing the confusion and pain in his eyes. Clasping her hand over her heart she replied, "Because I thought you despised me. You returned my letter and told me to let go, so I thought you were angry with me for causing your broken wing." Tears pooled in her eyes, glistening like diamonds. "I'm the reason why your wing broke. I'm the reason why you had to go to the North Woods. I'm the reason why you've become hard and lonely," she wept.

He swallowed hard, fighting to keep from going to her.

"Whenever I saw you flying past the border, I waited for you to look at me," she sniffled with delicate tears running down her cheeks and wrapped her arms around herself in comfort against the old wound opening up. "I never expected you to smile at me. But for three hundred and fifty years I waited for you to simply look. Never once did you look back at me," she whispered, softly shaking her head. "Neverland help me, I was desperate. I thought that if I could come to you and offer a baby, you might forgive me. I was willing to sacrifice every piece of my dignity to find a way to have some kind of life with you. And Thomas, I knew, would be the kindest in taking my dignity. Why would I have gone to you when every signal I got pointed to me holding nothing but your distain?" She kept her distance from him across the kitchen when he didn't even look like her words bothered him. "Another hundred years later and I gave up hope." Her chin quivered softly and her voice broke when she said, "I needed you so much that I was planning to seduce you for one night just to have your baby, to have a piece of you to love and hold forever. I could not push away and forget about you like you could me. So, yes, I messed up and got pathetically desperate enough to do something insane like experiment with Thomas!" She spun on her heel and marched out.

He caught her by her arms at the front door when she reached for it, his cane clattering to the floor as he held her upper arms tight and bent to meet her eyes. "Do you think I went more than a day without ever watching you?" he asked with tears in his eyes. "Do you think I became a recluse because I was angry with you? I sat in a damn tree every morning to watch you open your window and sit. Even when I was so cold it caused me horrible pain to be out of the North Woods."

Her wide eyes searched his.

"I hid from the world because I was terrified of hearing about someone courting you. I woke up every day afraid that you had found someone to replace me. I wanted you happy, but I knew it would finally break me the day you would forget all about me. When I thought you were pregnant, I wanted to fade." A tear slipped down both of their cheeks. "You have always deserved happiness, but I hadn't been prepared for the way you moving on would rip a hole in my chest and cut out my heart. Never has a day gone by where I haven't seen you, at least from a distance, except when at war or being terribly ill." Then his face crumpled. "The day I left you, I crossed the border that night. The warm drained me so fast that I was crawling by the time I got under your bedchamber window. I came every night on the yearly anniversary of when we met."

Her hand covered her mouth, soft sobs escaping her. She hadn't known he had come to her window.

"But I never called to you because I had nothing to offer you but a broken fairy and a home in such cold that it would kill you," he croaked. "Never could I despise you or blame you for anything that has happened."

Her chest heaved as tears ran down her face. "I never knew."

"Because I thought it was best for you to move on. So every time I saw you look at me like I was your hero flying past the border, I forced myself to not look back. I saw every smile, every tear, Clarion. You just didn't know it."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he held her close. "I swear Thomas meant nothing. I missed you so much that I was desperate to try anything," she wept.

He kissed her ear and held her tight. "I'm sorry I got so angry. I got jealous and...well, I didn't think. I love you so much, sweetheart. It's selfish of me, but I want to be your mate even if all I can give you is this cottage and a semi-crippled mate."

She held him tight. "I love this cottage. And I love you."

"Just promise me one thing."

"What?" she sniffled.

"Thomas or any other fairy won't be there when we're trying to make a baby," he said dryly.

"No one else," she promised and burst out laughing. The butterflies heard her music and released from the fields into the air, creating a beautiful scene out the windows.

But Clarion and Milori didn't notice-they were lost in a beautiful kiss.


	7. Chapter 7

It had been three days since she had seen Milori. The summer fairies were preparing to go to the mainland in two more days, and there were still many preparations to be done. Clarion had to send her regrets to Milori because she had been getting up at sunrise and going to bed after midnight for the last few nights. Gliss had brought her back a reply immediately, which Clarion hadn't expected.

My dearest Clarion,

I appreciate you letting me know that you can't come visit for a few days. I realize you have many duties to attend to, and it would be unfair of me to expect you to devote so much time to me and shirk your responsibilities. I have the luxury of convalescing right now while you do not. Unfortunately with us both being rulers, we may have times where it will be days before we're able to have time together. Sometimes our time might only be holding each other in sleep after we mate, but we'll figure it out. Apparently I miss talking to you because I'm digressing...

Yes, I'm doing alright. Spruce told me that he was ordered to report to you if I don't do my daily back and wing exercises with him, which I think is quite unfair of you, sweetheart. I'd rather face an hour of his rough hands poking my back than face the queen's wrath.

She laughed to herself, picturing him chuckling with a wink at her.

And, no, my leg is holding up fine. Spruce says that it is healing quick, thanks to you, and I can soon start some exercises to strengthen it.

I'm keeping you too long, so I shall say farewell for now. And be careful if Tinkerbell is inventing anything. Sled told me about the small explosion she caused in the tinker shop last night when everyone was thankfully gone. She seems to be accident prone, and I worry about you getting caught in it.

I miss you and love you.

Yours,

Milori

She smiled down at his elegant scrawl and gently ran her fingers over his last words. Yours. A shiver of delight ran through her, and she held his letter to her breast. He had sent her a letter once when she had been in the hospital, and she had been confused what 'yours' had meant. She understood now that, even back then when they had barely known each other, he had meant that he was hers.

She climbed into bed at one o'clock in the morning that night. She was irritable, exhausted and sick of having queenly duties when she wanted to be lazy at the cottage with Milori. Pulling the sheets up, she laid down and sank into her wonderfully plush bed that fit her in all the right places that only came with years of breaking it in. With a happy sigh, she closed her eyes and was ready for sleep to claim her.

There was a knock on her chamber door.

Keeping her eyes closed, her brow furrowed. Perhaps if she ignored it, the intruder would go away.

"Queen Clarion?" a guard called through the door and knocked louder. "My queen?!"

"What?!" she snapped, throwing back the blankets in a fit. She snatched up her robe and stomped to the door, wanting nothing more than to sleep—she even wanted it more than seeing Milori right now. She whipped it open to see a guard and Sled. "Sled? What are you doing here?" she asked, her first thought being something was wrong with Milori.

"I'm sorry to wake you, but there was a terrible avalanche in winter. Several winter fairies are buried, and Lord Milori is there right now trying to get them out with his talents. We've never seen an avalanche of this magnitude. His dust keeps draining fast, and he asked me to fetch you in hopes that you can keep supplying him. He can't hold out at this pace."

"Let me get dressed." She closed the door and threw on several layers of warm clothes in case she had to be in winter for several hours. Then she pulled on her cape and opened the door. "Come." She walked back into her room and over to the window.

"Um, shouldn't we use the hall?" he asked skeptically when she started to climb out.

"No, this way is faster."

"Isn't it too high for you to jump?"

"I sneak out this way all the time. The guards think I'm too delicate to climb out or something," she snorted with a wave of her hand. She slipped out the window and scaled down in the amount of time it took Sled to fly out. She looked around. "Is it far, or do I need Blizzard?"

"I can carry you."

"No, your wings aren't strong enough." She set her fingers to her lips and hoped Milori had trained Blizzard to respond to the pitch of an acorn whistle as he had done with Mountain. Then she waited with her eyes on the sky.

"He will come within seconds," he promised.

"Where is the avalanche?"

"In the East Woods at the base of a mountain. It's been a stable mountain for centuries, but the avalanche suddenly happened. It ripped out trees and everything in it's path. There are nearly a dozen homes at the bottom of the mountain, and they're all buried in thirty feet of snow. He keeps trying to take massive amounts of snow into the air to clear it away like he did when you went into the lake, but there's just too much. Sometimes he's able to plunge his hands into an avalanche of snow and use his talents to make it explode apart into snowflakes, but that isn't working either. He estimates another fifteen minutes and the trapped fairies will have suffocated in their homes."

"Does his back hurt?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I suppose so."

She looked him in the eye. "That could be the reason why his dust is draining so fast. Sled, I don't have his talents or strength. We have to figure something out or those fairies, and him, may fade."

Blizzard came soaring a moment later. She climbed up and scratched his back as Sled got seated behind her. The owl bobbed his head happily and pranced his feet.

"Queen Clarion!" one of the guards yelled from the window.

"You'll have to catch up because I'm not waiting!" she replied, purposefully not telling them her destination because she didn't want warm fairies going into winter where it wasn't safe. Then she snapped the reins. "Yah!" They tore into the sky.


	8. Chapter 8

The snow was wet, heavy and packed tight. In his nearly four hundred years, Milori had never seen such a massive avalanche. His brow was damp. It had already been twenty minutes since Sled had flown to the cabin in a panic to get Milori to come help. After three unsuccessful attempts to expel all of the snow, Milori had sent Sled to get Clarion. Where was she? Time was quickly running out for the buried fairies, if they had even survived the impact of the hundreds of pounds of heavy wet snow.

He plunged his hands into the pile again and willed the dust to hold out just a little longer until Clarion could arrive. He closed his eyes and concentrated, sending a blast of energy into the snow and making several inches burst into snowflakes. He cursed. His attempts were growing weaker. He turned to another fairy for more dust—all of the winter fairies were bringing him their dust rations to coat his hands. It wasn't nearly as powerful as dust that Clarion could infuse into his body, but it would have to do.

He started climbing the small mountain of snow. Perhaps more snow would blast off at once if he did a small area—the top of it instead of the entire pile that was almost as wide as Pixie Hollow and at least thirty feet deep.

Jamming his fingers into the snow that was beginning to harden into a thin layer of ice on the outside, he hooked his fingers in and thrusted the toe of his boot through the crust. He started the tedious climb, unable to go too fast and risk not having a sure grip. Not for the first time in his life, he cursed his broken wing. Not only could he not fly but his muscles from having to do physical labor made him too heavy for even three fairies to be able to carry him without risking straining their own wings. He continued climbing, focusing on his hands and footing rather than thinking about how high he was and how far he had yet to go. His heart raced in both fear for the fairies and that one wrong move would send him to his death. Shooting pains began radiating through his back even more than usual, protesting the difficult climb up the snow pile. "Why couldn't I have been a damn giant?" he panted to himself and raised his arm to thrust his fingers through the crust. He pulled himself up another few inches. At least his leg was holding up well enough for now. Sweat, that turned into ice crystals for winter fairies in winter, covered his brow and torso. To make matters worse, the snow pile's crust was getting thicker with the night temperature and beginning to scrape his fingertips. With the bright moonlight and his excellent vision, he was at least able to see where he was climbing.

Sleet and some other fairies flew past and lowered a long vine. "Grab on!"

He did and leaned his weight back to take some of the strain off his back. He used his legs to walk up the side of the pile as if mountain climbing. Glancing up, he saw the four fairies' wings beat faster with his weight. Trying to hurry, he still could only take one step every second to ensure he had good footing.

The tension in the vine gave away just enough for him to nearly lose his balance. He looked up, expecting that his weight was becoming too much for their wings.

"It's breaking!" Sleet called down in a panic. "Let go! Now!"

Milori felt the tension in the vine give away, but he didn't have time to react.

As she flew closer, Clarion saw Milori climbing up the side of the avalanche with nothing but a vine being held up by four fairies. Her breath caught in her throat. If he or they slipped, he'd fall fifteen feet or more to his death. She was just yards away when she heard Sleet yell that the vine holding Milori up was breaking. And then she screamed when Milori was in a free fall.

Flinging out his arms as he flipped through the air, he tried to dig his fingers into the side of the avalanche pile and at least slow his fall. He knew that he was too heavy and falling too fast to be able to catch himself, but he might survive if he could grab the ice and slow his descent. He only hoped that his fingers wouldn't break or his elbows or shoulders dislocate with the force of the jerk if he could dig in his fingers.

Her heart stilled, watching him closing in on the ice below from a height that no wingless fairy would survive. She urged Blizzard faster, and the owl let out a screech upon seeing Milori in danger. Blizzard's wings sliced through the air as he threw himself into a nosedive, struggling to gain speed fast enough to reach Milori in time. Clarion weighed her two options in a single heartbeat: she shot a massive amount of dust at Milori, risking that her shot wouldn't hit him straight in the heart and kill him instantly. The only other option was to gamble they'd reach him in time.

The wind whistled past his ears as he fell head first toward the ice below that was rapidly approaching. Flinging his arm out, he braced for the pain and dug his hand into the snow pile. As he expected, his fingers scraped and battled to not snap. The sudden slowing of inertia ripped his arm up as the rest of his body flung down past his head. The velocity was too much and the crusted snow broke away under his fingers in an instant, and he was back in a free-fall, feet first this time. Using both arms, he reached out and gritted his teeth as his fingers cut deep grooves into the ice at a velocity so fast his fingers felt hot. But the ice was just thin enough that it did little to slow his fall. A large amount of dust suddenly exploded against his back, causing him to cry out in pain. His speed slowed just enough for him to slam his toes into the ice, desperately trying to slow down. His foot hit a chunk of solid ice, and his knee suddenly collapsed. His balance was suddenly shifted and he lost his grip. He fell backwards away from the wall and looked up to see Sleet and the other three fairies trying to get to him, but they were so high up that he knew he was almost at the ground. Closing his eyes, he thought of Clarion and waited for the pain right before his light would go out.

Clarion crouched down and led Blizzard in a dive that no sane creature would try, much less a fairy who didn't know how to fly an owl. Just a little further, she told herself. Her eyes darted from the ground to Milori, assessing the small distance between the two. Blizzard had one chance, and it would be a miracle if they could squeeze between Milori, the ground and the snow pile that was turning into a block of ice. Blizzard flew head-on at the ice, with no time to change the direction they were coming from. She clutched the reins in a white-knuckled grip. Almost there. Just a little closer and she could jerk the reins to the left and have Blizzard make a sharp turn to catch Milori. Thankfully, the bird didn't seem to notice he was headed straight on into a wall of ice, his attention solely on Milori. They were almost to him, with less than a foot between him and the ground. Her heart galloped within her breast.

It felt like his body crushed in on itself when he hit on his back and came to an immediate stop. He waited for his last breath to leave his lips. Oddly enough, he felt the wind on his face. Opening his eyes, he looked up to see Clarion.

She looked down at Milori in her lap and smiled with immense relief. He blinked as if completely confused.

"Clarion?"

"I thought I'd rescue a male in distress," she said lightly, knowing that if she didn't laugh she would burst into tears.

He sat up with a groan and heard the fairies cheer loudly below. "Thanks," he said with a nervous laugh and swung his leg over to straddle Blizzard. She handed the reins over to him and wrapped her arms around his middle.

He flew them up to the top of the pile and had Blizzard hover as he carefully slid down and tested the strength of the snow. Then he reached up and lifted her down carefully.

He called for three fairies, who were there in an instant.

"Hold onto her lest this caves. Clarion, I need dust. A lot of it." He walked over to the center of the pile and knelt to study the layer of ice, assessing where to plunge in his hands because the longer Clarion's dust was in his body, the less pure it became, therefore, weaker.

The winter fairies held her arms firmly. She got ready to blow dust into him.

He was waking back toward her when there was a crunch. He froze instantly.

She looked at the winter fairies holding her, and their faces looked like they had gone sheet white. Horror filled their eyes.

"Get her off," Milori commanded instantly without moving.

"What? Why?" she panicked, not wanting to leave Milori behind.

The fairies lifted her quickly.

"Milori?!"

Milori looked at her with wide eyes, still not moving. The cracking grew louder suddenly. His eyes were full of sorrow for a split second as he looked at her, love from the bottom of his soul gazing back at her.

She didn't understand. Why were they holding her back? Why weren't did he look at her like it was the last time? ...the last time. She started fighting them to let her get to him because she realized what was happening.

He suddenly dropped through, the mini mountain caving in on itself as it swallowed him into the depths of its belly.


	9. Chapter 9

"Noooo!" she screamed and tried to shoot dust at where he had sunk in, but the fairies held her arms too tight to move. "Put me down!" she almost screamed in a panic.

Spruce flew up with a large leaf. "Here, we can hold you over the snow."

Sleet and more fairies came to hold the edges as she was lowered onto the leaf. She scrabbled onto her belly and stretched her arms down as they flew her over the spot. Laying her hands on the snow where he had disappeared, she started pushing dust through it in hopes of some reaching him so he could get himself out. The snow, however, was wet and packed tight. She had learned when she had fallen into Frost Lake that dust didn't work when wet.

"No," she whimpered and tried to push it through harder without success. Her heart raced faster with fear. The winter fairies, they believed, were protected in their homes from the avalanche. Milori, however, only had what air was in his lungs. Forcing her mind to stop panicking, she closed her eyes and concentrated. Think. Think! Then it came to her and she opened her eyes, staring at the snow without seeing it. She could summon the Pixie Tree dust. If enough could be blasted into the snow, he would get some of it and could get out.

She scrambled up onto her knees and looked up at the fairies holding the leaf. "I need a block of thick ice. Incredibly thick because I'll get so hot I'll start melting through it," she commanded.

Sled looked down at the fairies on the ground. "A thick block of ice and rope! Now!"

Seconds later, the Pixie Tree could be heard rumbling throughout the seasons as Clarion drew out an incredible amount of dust, more than she had used on the fire in autumn so long ago. A glowing golden cloud flew over to winter and hovered over the snow pile, it's light so bright that it was almost like daylight at the scene. She climbed up on the block of ice, her body already hot from the wild energy of so much dust. She held her arms out as if holding up the dust by sheer willpower.

"Above the dust," she commanded, her eyes narrowed and focused on the particles vibrating in the sky. Most of the dust would fade as soon as it hit the ice and become immediately useless. She struggled to contain the dust, which was volatile being exposed to the air in such a massive amount.

The winter fairies lifted the ropes, six of them trying to carry the weight of her and the ice. They rose higher and higher until she was level with the dust. She didn't even notice that her feet were already burning into the ice block.

She slowly lifted her arms, raising the dust. The fairies below wisely backed away. Then she flung her arms down, the dust creating a crack of thunder when it hit the wet snow. Clarion raised it again immediately and slammed it down. Her brow was wet and her muscles ached as the energy of the dust vibrated through her entire body. She was now melted through the ice knee-deep.

The snow trembled, and she knew that some of the dust had reached Milori. Lifting her arms once more, the effort almost beyond her, she slammed the dust down again and sank onto her knees. She flung her arms to the side, sending the dust back to the tree because she was afraid of losing control of it. She collapsed onto her hands and knees. Her eyes were focused on the snow as everyone waited.

"Again," she panted weakly.

"Another time and it will melt your wings," Sleet said quietly as they started to lower her. "He has enough."

"You don't know that," she argued.

Suddenly, the ground shook and a huge burst of snowflakes shot up into the sky.

Looking down with wide eyes, she saw Milori waist deep in the pit he had created.

The fairies cheered. Milori's eyes turned upward to the sky and he smiled at Clarion as if he had faith all along that she'd figure something out.

She smiled with relief when she suddenly felt the last of the ice give away and it break down the middle. Clarion distantly heard some fairies scream. She flung out her hand to shoot dust to soften her fall into the snow. But then she saw Milori, his eyes wide with fear as he held out his arms and leaned forward to catch her, and she didn't shoot dust because it would hit Milori.

Her landing was soft with the snow and Milori's arms to catch her.

"Are you alright?" he asked instantly.

She nodded with a smile.

He took in her damp hair and flushed cheeks. His excellent eyesight noticed a very slight steam coming off of her into the icy air. "You're burning up," he frowned severely and carefully set her to her feet. She sank down in the snow to her hips, grabbing his arms in a panic.

He still had his hands on her waist and smiled. "It's alright. The snow is packed hard down under me. Can you safely give me more dust?" he asked.

"I should have enough left," she answered, looking up at him and completely out of her element.

"You're using your own dust now?"

"I ran through my backup supply. There's no time for me to go to the tree to get more, and I don't think I'm strong enough to summon it. Take me to the tree after this, and it'll be fine."

He touched her cheek, his brow furrowing in pain at the severe temperature difference between them. So he lightly frosted her brow to cool her down.

He assessed the best method to save the fairies that would use the least of Clarion's dust. She was weak and probably only had enough dust left for one try. And they were out of time for the trapped fairies.

He pulled her tight against him. "Do not let go. If a warm fairy is hit when I blast the snow, it's deadly. We'll fall when the snow blasts away, but I have enough dust to make a snow pile for us to hit. Whatever happens, don't let go of me."

She wrapped her arms around him tight, terrified because under the snow was thick ice.

"Clarion?"

She looked up at him.

"Do you trust me? Whatever your instincts, you have to not do anything or you could die."

Looking into his eyes, she nodded.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he promised. Then he bent his head down and his lips met hers.

She kept her arms around his torso tight as she blew dust into his mouth. He let go of her, and she felt him raise his arms behind her. She had never witnessed him use the full strength of his talents, and she was startled when his body started to feel hard. He pulled his lips away, and she knew that he had enough dust.

"Closer," he ordered in a tone that he must use as a General because it left no room for disobedience or questioning.

She pressed herself as close as physically possible and wrapped her arms around his broad back. Laying her cheek against his chest, she hunched her shoulders when the wind whipped around them. There was suddenly an explosive boom, and she jumped out of her skin.

The snow blasted away in the blink of an eye, and an instinctual whimper escaped her when she and Milori were suddenly in a free fall of thirty feet. She wanted to shoot out dust to catch them, but she remembered what Milori had said. Instead, she buried her face against his neck and trusted that he knew what he was doing.

He felt Clarion panicking and turned them so his back would take the hit when they landed to protect her from getting hurt. Reaching his hands up at the sky, he flung his arms down as he commanded the snow to gather in a fluffy pile below him.

Glancing over his shoulder, she saw snow swirling down to make a pile as they barreled toward it. "Milori," she whimpered, terrified there wouldn't be enough snow in time.

He wrapped his arms around her. "It's alright," he promised, knowing that if she used any more dust it would drain it from her wings and kill her. He knew that he would cushion her enough in the fall, he just hoped that the snow would cushion him enough.

They hit with a swoosh, snow flying up all around them.

"They're alive, Lord Milori!" Someone called joyfully.

Clarion struggled to push herself up to a sit with her hands on his chest, her body very weak without much dust left in her. She straddled Milori's hips and couldn't see anything besides the heavy snow flurries all around. All she knew was he didn't move.


	10. Chapter 10

They were enclosed in a deep pile of fluffy snow as if it was a bowl.

"Milori?" Clarion asked nervously, afraid he was hurt.

Her wrists were suddenly grabbed in firm grasps and immobilized.

The snow started to clear from the air, and she saw his eyes wide with terror.

"It's me," she said softly.

He let go instantly and sat up, quickly pulling himself out from under her.

She scooted off of him so they were sitting across from each other.

His chest heaved and his eyes were unfocused as if he was seeing something else.

"Honey, it's alright," she said soothingly and slowly scooted closer. When she set a hand on his arm, he jumped so hard it made her startle too.

Blinking hard, his eyes settled on her. "Clarion?" he asked as if surprised and looked around.

She moved closer and touched his cheek. "We were getting the fairies out of the avalanche," she explained.

"We fell. Are you alright?" he asked quickly and started patting her down for injuries.

"The fairies and I are fine. Are you? What happened?" she asked with a furrowed brow.

He shook his head and started to get up.

She caught his hand. "Milori," she asked quietly, wanting to know what was wrong so she could help him.

Fairies started swarming around them and peering in.

"Are you both alright?" one of the fairies asked.

Meeting her eyes, his promised that they would talk later in private. He stood and held down a hand to her. When he pulled her to her feet, she swayed slightly. Without a word, he swept her up in his arms suddenly and whistled for Blizzard. "You need more dust," he said in concern. "See to the fairies, Spruce," he said in general, just expecting Spruce to be there.

"Yes, my lord," Spruce replied from behind them.

Milori waved his hand to send the snow collapsing that was in their way. He started limping to Blizzard, the fairies parting the way for him with absolute silence.

Clarion glanced up at his face to see it serious and fierce. No fairy would dare to attempt talking to that face. Whatever he had seen in his head had disturbed him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hoping her love was strong enough to battle his demons.

He flew them to the tree in silence, but she knew something was weighing heavily on his mind that he wasn't ready yet to share. His demeanor radiated authority and strength like only a true warrior who had survived horrors could. He slid down off of Blizzard when they landed in the tree and lifted his arms to catch her. She slipped into his arms. No words were needed between them. He took her to the middle of the tree and set her down on her knees, as if knowing what she needed to do, and pulled her cape off of her. Then he took a step back.

She leaned her hands down on the tree. Her bond with it was strong being the queen. Even though she was too weak to summon the dust, it sensed her distress.

Milori stood back and watched to make sure she'd be alright. The dust surfaced and crept up her arms to cover her body. Then it started glowing a gentle gold, and she closed her eyes as life flowed back into her.

He looked so sad and alone when she finished and looked up at him, his golden eyes studying her to the depths of her soul. She would have given anything to make him realize she was always right there beside him. So she said the only words that had any hope of reaching him.

It suddenly struck him deep in his heart just how innocent and selfless this creature was. And she loved a crippled fairy who was haunted by demons that terrified him, yet she wasn't afraid. She was strong...so much stronger than him. He had witnessed sunrises over mountains, births of hundreds of winter fairies, summer nights filled with butterflies, and meteor showers created by Clarion. But this...this was the most beautiful scene he had witnessed yet in his life-moment her skin stopped glowing, she looked up at him with her beautiful diamond eyes and softly said, "I love you, Milori."

He sank to his knees as if emotionally moved by something incredibly powerful. At first she feared that something was wrong, but then she saw the way he was looking at her. And it left her speechless-it was as if he was gazing upon the most miraculous thing his wise eyes had ever beheld.


	11. Chapter 11

Milori had taken Clarion home two nights ago with only a shake of his head when she had asked him what was wrong. The ride had been silent, and she had assumed he wanted space. She had been busy the past days again with the summer preparations and hadn't heard a word from him. So, she had sent a letter to the cabin yesterday morning.

My Milori,

My apologies for not being able to come. I imagine your back and leg need more recuperation after the avalanche. Send for me if you need me for anything. Anything at all.

I've been spending 16-hours a day helping prepare for summer in the mainland; otherwise, I would come to have this conversation in person. I'm concerned what you saw at the avalanche that seemed to frighten you. What has me deeply worried is what happened at the tree. Something bothered you, and I have a feeling it's about us. May I stop by at midnight, or is that too late for you? I don't want you to sacrifice your rest if you weren't planning to be up that late. Something's wrong, honey, and I want to be there if you need to talk. I love you, and I hope you know you can talk to me about anything.

I love you, sweetheart.

Clarion

The reply had not been what she had expected.

Clarion,

I'm recuperating fine but do find I'm tiring easily. Good luck with the summer preparations, and let Sled or Gliss know if you need any help.

Milori

That had been it. There was no 'dear, 'sweetheart' or 'I love you.' It concerned her, and she had no idea what to think of it.

She woke up early the next morning to prepare for the council meeting that was to resume from a few days ago. She wanted to speak to Milori before the meeting and find out what was wrong. When she arrived at the cabin at sunrise, she knocked on the door, with butterflies in her stomach. There was no answer. With a frown, she turned the knob and found it unlocked. She stepped inside.

"Milori?" she called and wandered through the house. No one was there. He must have already left.

With a heavy heart, she went home and waited for the council to begin.

When she arrived at the council, everyone was already there, including Milori. Her eyes were focused on solely him, her heart beating faster in anticipation of seeing him after days. She approached and everyone stood. But he didn't come around to the border to take her hand like usual. Instead, he stayed at his end of the table and avoided eye contact, although he did bow.

She sat, completely befuddled what was going on with him.

The entire table sat down, and she stared at him for a moment. He kept his eyes downcast.

Fine. If he wanted to ignore her, she would go about her duties with or without his participation. She started the meeting, her teeth on edge the entire time. Thankfully, she didn't have any reason to try to force him into conversation. Never once did he look at her when she glanced at him. She wasn't going to play in this immature game of avoiding each other; she was going to confront him after the meeting. It started to snow heavily in winter, so she took the opportunity to dismiss the council. As soon as she stood, everyone bowed. She knew that she looked shocked when he was the first to turn away and then disappear into winter.

Her feelings of hurt now bubbled into anger. Spinning on her heel, she started for the cabin.

"My queen!"

She turned, angry that she was delayed in releasing her anger, and saw Sled flying toward her from the table. Everyone else had departed, except for her handful of guards.

"Forgive me, but I was distracted and forgot to ask if we may have three extra baskets made for winter this week?"

She nodded, trying to not take out her temper on him. "Send word to Fairy Mary and tell her that I approved the delivery."

"Thank you," he said with a bow.

She turned around to resume her mission and noticed Sled fall into step with her.

"Are you going to the cabin?" he asked in confusion.

She glanced at him, slightly surprised that he was inquiring about her destination.

He noticed immediately. "Forgive me. I'm going there because I left a pair of boots. May I join you?"

"Oh. Of course. I need to discuss something with His Lordship," she half growled his name.

Sled blinked. "He just headed back home to the North Woods."

Her feet slammed to a stop and she looked at him.

"Did you not know?" he asked, clearly uncomfortable that he might have said too much.

Her chest hurt and she suddenly forgot how to breathe.

His eyes were wide. "He went back a couple days ago. You knew, right?" he almost squeaked, worried he had stuck his foot in his mouth.

She blinked, slamming down an iron mask to protect her heart as much as to be a damn queen. "I forgot," she said with a forced laugh. "I don't need to discuss anything then." She started to turn away, tears shimmering in her eyes. He had promised he would tell her first if he was going back to the North Woods. He had sworn with his heart that he wouldn't abandon her again. She had been so sure that a door to his heart had opened that night at the tree. The softest whisper of a gasp of pain escaped her lips as her heart started to bleed. How could she have been so stupid as to have started to believe he was staying away to make proposal plans? The way he looked at her at the tree just nights ago...she had thought it was with love.

"Shall I take him a message, my queen?"

She wanted to wrap her arms around herself and double over, the pain almost unbearable as she started to crumble apart inside. Instead, she held her head high and clasped her hands before her to hide their trembling. She turned around calmly and looked Sled in the eye, a mask of perfect serenity shielding her face. If Milori had tossed her aside again, she wouldn't be pathetic enough to beg him to come back and do it yet a third time. His message from yesterday had been brisk enough; this one, she was certain, would be dismissed as her last one had been so many years ago.

"That won't be necessary," she said calmly. And then she turned around with her guards and calmly walked back to the castle.

Clarion cursed herself hours later when she sobbed in her bedchambers because she had promised herself that he wasn't worth it and her heart didn't hurt. And it didn't hurt; it was throbbed with unimaginable pain.

Dear Mary was intimate enough with Clarion to have noticed her distress during the council meeting and had come to check on Clarion afterwards. She had discovered the Queen sobbing in her chambers. It had taken no more than a hug for Clarion to spill the story.

"Wretched beast!" Mary had cursed as she held Clarion. "I will punch him myself, I will! He has no right to come back after all of these years and toy with you! Clarion, you will find a good fairy. That Spruce seems to be quite the intelligent one, and you two seem to get along smashingly."

"Mary, not now," she sniffled and pulled back to blow her nose. She looked out the window from where they sat on her bed and noticed it was nearly sunset. "I left some of my things at the cabin. I want to go get them so I don't have to go back later."

"I can get them..." she said in concern.

Clarion shook her head. "I need to go alone."

"Alright," she said with understanding. "Take your guards."

So Clarion set out a few minutes later with her four guards that she ordered to walk behind her so she could have some privacy.

It was harder than she had expected to walk into the cabin for the last time. She had only brought a handful of her things into the bedchamber to make it feel more like their home for him while he had been recuperating, but it was still painful to have to take them out. The one thing she left behind on the dresser was the gold butterfly necklace he had given her hundreds of years ago. It had been in the center of her dresser every day they had been separated to remind her to keep fighting for him. But now there was no point in keeping it when he had thrown her away yet again. It started to hurt too much to be at the cabin, so she turned to leave with just her handful of trinkets. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Milori stop just as quickly in surprise in the bedchamber doorway.

He instantly looked ashamed. "I'm so sorry, Clarion," he said quietly.

She shook her head, locking away her heart because there was no way she would get through this otherwise. "I'm glad your cold feet came now instead of when I was pregnant," she replied honestly without malice.

Those words clearly stung him if the flinch of pain in his face was any indication.

She started to brush past, but he caught her arm.

"Can we talk?" he pleaded.

She jerked her arm away and forced herself to turn and face him calmly like a queen. "About what? That you promised you wouldn't leave again without telling me but you ran anyways?" It was hard to look him in the eye and not fall to her knees and sob out her pain into her hands, forcing him to witness the anguish he was causing her. Instead, she held her head high with dignity. "How I kept telling myself that you hadn't left, you were just figuring out a proposal?" her voice cracked.

His face crumpled. Watching her struggling to shut down and shove him away brought tears to his eyes. This beautiful creature had suffered so much at his hands, and now he was ashamed to admit that she was suffering torture at his hands. The one soul he had never wanted to hurt, he was watching writhe and scream in his own hands. A tear rolled down his cheek because he was powerless in being able to stop her torture.

Drawing a deep shaky breath, she continued with a voice held steady only by sheer willpower to survive. "I am not pathetic enough to beg you to keep hitting me," she finished quietly but with eyes as hard as steel.

"I got scared!" he cried, desperate for her to understand that he was trying to protect her, not destroy her. "Neverland help me, I fell to my knees the other night because I almost asked you right then and there to be my mate!" he shouted, hurting so much to see her soul dying. "I cannot bind you to something as broken as me!"

Swallowing hard, she searched his angry eyes. "You're right," she said softly. "If you believe you are broken, no matter what I do to try to prove to you otherwise, you will always be broken. There are some things that no one can fix but you, Milori, not even the Queen." A soft sob escaped her lips, and she fought to keep the tears from spilling.

His heart shattered in that instant because he knew he had lost her. The Queen never cried in front of anyone, but Clarion cried only in front of a handful of souls in this world. And he was no longer blessed with being one of those souls who could comfort an angel.

"When you're about to propose to the one who is meant to be your mate, it doesn't cause panic," she whispered with tears rising in her eyes. And then she was gone.


	12. Chapter 12

Clarion tried to keep busy over the next few days, convinced that this was just a nightmare she'd wake up from any second.

Mary came over one night with a carton of ice cream. They sat on Clarion's bed with two spoons, laughing as Mary retold about Tink's latest disaster that had landed Tink in a big tangle of spiderwebs with a snapdragon stuck on her head.

"Poor Terence, I thought he was going to have a heart attack he was so worried," Mary giggled. "I shouldn't laugh, but she was fine and looked so funny!"

Clarion laughed and took another scoop of ice cream. She looked down at her spoon and tears suddenly sprang to her eyes. "Mary?"

She was suddenly serious. "What's wrong?"

"Was Gary panicking when he asked to be your mate?" A tear rolled down her cheek when she looked at her.

Her face fell. "Oh, Clarion, is that what he said?" she asked with a broken heart. She took Clarion's hand. "Gary said he was nervous, nothing more. Dearie, I know it hurts right now, but perhaps this is for the best. We will go out tomorrow when it's not so late and find some fun. Who says the Queen can't casually court?" she winked.

"He and I are semi-mated. It's too late to find someone else," she said quietly. "Besides, he's my mate."

Mary looked sly. "Not technically. I asked Dewey, and he said your name hasn't shown up with Milori's in the genealogy book. He said that a spec of dust during mating gravitates to the book and the names appear within the book. Until then, there is no mate."

"Mary!" Clarion snapped. "Why would you talk to him about something like that without asking me?" she asked, terribly hurt.

"Because you'd never let me ask. Sometimes friends know best. You'd sit here in depression until you fade if you had your way. I'll take you out to meet some nice males."

"Mary, I don't want to go out looking for males. Besides, I'll send all of them running because who wants to be with a Queen? I have too much baggage," she grumbled.

Mary cocked a haughty eyebrow. At least Clarion wasn't weeping now. "You only have baggage if you carry it on. No arguments, we're going out tomorrow. You won't lock yourself in this room again this time. We will go salsa dancing tomorrow night!"

"What?! No. I'm not...nuh uh. Besides, I don't even know how to dance."

"Gary is a fabulous salsa dancer, believe it or not. I'll find you a hot male to teach you. If not, you can borrow Gary. He'll make all of the males jealous of you!"

Clarion's look of panic was lost on Mary.

Clarion was physically pushed and prodded by Mary the next evening to go out. After arguing with Mary about what clothes were decent for a queen, Clarion finally put on a knee-length, sleeveless violet dress that had a fluttering skirt. Mary opened Clarion's bedchamber door to shove her out when they saw Spruce with a hand raised to knock.

"Oh!" He said in surprise and bowed. "I was hoping to catch you. It's been awhile since I checked your wings." He glanced down at her dress but quickly returned his eyes to hers.

Mary stepped around Clarion and dragged Spruce into the room. "You should come with us! Gary and I are taking her salsa dancing!"

"What?!" Clarion spun around on her in a panic. She clamped her mouth shut, realizing her rudeness, and turned to Spruce.

He had wide eyes and looked slightly flustered.

"No offense. Excuse us for a moment," she told Spruce and turned to Mary. She grabbed Mary's hand and dragged her into the washroom and shut the door. "What do you think you're doing?" she whispered harshly. "He's taken to being my healer, and it would be incredibly awkward!"

"It wouldn't be awkward. He's very nice, and I think he likes you," she said in a normal tone.

"Shhhh! Not another word. Promise?"

Mary sighed.

Clarion opened the door and walked back out to see Spruce composed again.

"She thinks it would be awkward, but you could go as friends!" Mary said gleefully as if this was her most amazing idea ever.

Clarion felt a flush spread up her cheeks and inwardly groaned.

Spruce blinked but was immediately in control of himself a second later. "I do not normally interact socially with patients, but if Her Majesty wishes, I'd be happy to even out the group number." He looked at Clarion, giving her room to back out.

It suddenly struck her how often she had overlooked Spruce as simply a healer. His eyes were warm and gentle, offering simply companionship and an escape from her presently overbearing friend.

"I'm sure you have other things you need to do tonight," Clarion said, mortified Mary was cornering him into it.

He smiled softly and bent to pick up his bag. "Shall I stop by in the morning then?"

"Do you have plans tonight?" Mary pushed.

"Mary," Clarion hissed.

His deep blue eyes moved from Mary to Clarion as if trying to assess her wishes. "Good evening, Your Highness. Fairy Mary," he smiled, clearly taking it in good nature and bowed.

"You don't have plans do you?" Mary pushed when he walked to the door.

He half turned, smiling over his shoulder. "I guess I'll have to be a male of mystery," he teased and let himself out.

Clarion's heart twisted seeing him take the rejection so gracefully, never actually putting her on the spot. She went after him.

He heard her fast slippered footsteps and glanced back. He stopped and turned to wait in the hall where guards were standing watch. "Is everything alright?" he asked with a slight bow.

She stopped before him. "May I have a word?"

He nodded and followed her to the empty throne room, half shutting the door for privacy.

She turned to him. "My apologies for Mary. She's determined to keep me from locking myself in my room."

He looked down at her in concern. "I know it's not my place to ask any questions, but you can talk to me if you need to. I gathered from his surly mood and the fact he's back in the North Woods that something serious had happened between you. I think it's good to get a hearty cry out and then ease back into society. Salsa dancing probably wouldn't be the first social activity that would come to my mind, but it's plenty social," he said with a gentle smile.

She felt her face flame. "Would you care to join us?"

A soft chuckle swept past his lips, lighting up his eyes. "I daresay you're blushing because you find this incredibly awkward and are hoping I'll say no. Have no fear, I won't press you into an embarrassing night, Your Highness."

Her brow furrowed and her blush died.

His brow furrowed slightly, studying her reaction. "Is that not what you meant?"

"Are you trying to be obtuse?" she asked bluntly in confusion.

His eyebrows raised and he laughed, the sound jovial and deep. "No, but apparently I am obtuse. Alright, it's a delicate situation, and I think we're both trying to walk around the question. If you would like for me to come, I would be more than happy to. No, I do not have plans tonight and am not on call for emergencies either, so I wouldn't need to walk out on you or take you home early. I can come as a friend and escort without any romantic strings attached. You just walked out of an intimate relationship with my best friend, and there's also the little detail of a healer-patient relationship. Neither one of us needs to worry about the other misreading this as something more. There. That was said rather diplomatically, if I do say so myself," he smiled at her.

She truly smiled for the first time in two days. "Well done," she laughed.

"Thank you, Your Highness," he grinned.

"Clarion," she said. "My friends...not that I really have any besides Mary and Gary," she thought to herself aloud with a frown. "They call me Clarion."

His smile made her feel warm and happy inside for the first time since Milori had left. He offered his arm. "Let's go join your friends, Clarion."

She took his arm with a smile and he held open the throne room door for her, setting a hand absently on her upper back. She flinched.

He stepped into the hall with her and frowned when he offered his arm again. "You haven't been doing your wing exercises, have you? Your back shouldn't hurt like that."

She dropped her eyes down, not wanting to talk about the fact that she had been waiting for Milori to heal so he could help her learn to fly again.

"May I check your back before we go? I'm concerned that dancing with a sore back will cause some serious problems tomorrow," he asked, not pressing the other question.

She nodded without a word.

Once she kicked Mary into the hall so she would stop blabbing about how sweet it was of Spruce to come, she turned to Spruce with his bag in hand.

He pulled out the chair at her desk and indicated for her to have a seat.

She hesitated because her dress did not have a scooping back like her other dresses.

"Would you like to change first?" he asked, realizing the issue.

She grabbed her gold dress and went into the washroom quickly to change. Then she came out and sat down sideways in the chair, as he instructed.

He rinsed his hands with warm water as much as he dared before he started massaging her back to loosen the muscles so her wings would open without pain.

She held onto the edges of her chair to help brace herself against his massage, which was slightly painful but at the same time felt good. Suddenly shy, she couldn't think of anything to say.

"Have you been salsa dancing before?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"No. I've never been dancing."

"Never?" he asked in surprise.

She shook her head. "I take it you have?" she laughed at his reaction.

"I thought everyone had. I've never salsa danced. To be honest, I might be a danger to your feet. I'm not very skilled at dancing. Ice skating is more my thing," he chuckled.

"Then there is hope for me!" she laughed. "I cannot stand on skates to save my life."

"Then we will have an interesting night. Alright, try lifting your wings." He pressed his thumbs under her wing support frame, relieving some of the stress on her muscles that were weak from disuse.

She slowly lifted them, but the pain grew intense and they dropped down. "It hurts a lot," she said and blew out a breath through the pain as it passed.

He started massaging again. "Alright. You need to start exercises lifting your wings straight out. Once you can do that without pain, lift them all the way up. I'm guessing it will take a week or two until the muscles are strong enough. You won't be able to open them for probably two or three more weeks. And whatever you do, do not try flying until I give the okay. Your muscles have atrophied, and there could be some serious damage if you fly before your back is ready." He stopped the massage. "Better?"

She nodded.

"Alright. I need you to stand."

She did and he stood behind her, holding her hips firmly in his hands.

"Try to turn and look at my opposite shoulder."

She did twists on both sides while he watched her back.

"Any pain?"

"A bit stiff, but no pain."

He let go of her hips. "If you take it easy tonight, you should be fine. No crazy hip action, like I suspect Mary will try to get you to do. Go on and change," he said.

She hesitated, not sure if she should ask.

"Are you alright?" He stepped around to face her.

"I don't think I'm going to wear that dress."

"Oh." He said with a nod. "Why? It looks nice," he frowned.

She blushed. "I feel naked in it."

"Ah," he said in understanding.

"It's too much, isn't it?"

He folded his hands behind his broad back. "I'm partial to it, but you look nice in anything. You should pick what makes you feel pretty so you'll have fun."

She nibbled her lip, unsure if she was being too stuffy.

He gently took her hand at her side and started leading her over to the closet.

She knew his hands were gentle and large, but she was surprised at how strong they were too. For some reason, she always thought of him as a bit unsure of himself, but she realized she had simply never really seen him outside of Milori's shadow. And then she wasn't sure what to think of the fact that she noticed him now.

He opened her closet and stood back, not peeking or intruding. "Pick what strikes you. What will make you feel pretty? Five seconds. Go."

She was confused and slightly flustered by this method. To her surprise, she grabbed a sky blue, knee-length dress with a bouncy skirt that she had never worn before.

He smiled. "Do you want to wear it?"

She laughed. "I think I do." Then she looked at him and cocked her head. "You're an odd one, but it strangely enough is becoming on you."

He smiled and shut her closet doors. "Geniuses are always odd, but we have our upsides too," he winked and then walked out of her room, shutting the door so she could change.

Clarion glanced out the window to see winter in the sunset light. She knew that Mary was trying to matchmake her with Spruce, and Clarion had no doubts that he'd be an amazing and attentive mate. But she also knew her heart lay somewhere else in winter.

She stepped out her door to see Spruce turn and smile as he took in her blue slippers and dress with her thick locks in a half ponytail.

"Now this looks like a fairy ready to have fun," he smiled and offered his arm. When she didn't take it but looked up at him seriously, he sobered and dropped his arm. "It's not a sin to want to live, Clarion," he said gently. "I wish I could tell you what the heck is running through that thick head of his. All I know is he looks completely miserable."

Looking down at her hands for a moment that were wringing her skirt, she said, "I don't know how I'm going to handle tonight. Mary said something that I don't know if it's true, and I don't want an answer." She looked up at him, squaring her shoulders. "She, um, she said that she thinks you might have more than a friend interest. Whatever happens tonight, I don't want to mislead you. I want you to know that I'm still in love with him." Tears shimmered in her eyes.

He stepped closer in concern and handed her a cotton handkerchief, to her surprise. "I asked Tinkerbell for one because I suspected before I came that there might be some tears," he explained. "Tonight is just for you to have fun. I understand this is going to be difficult for you, with a lot of mixed feelings. You can call the shots. If you want to walk on my arm, just take it. If you want to dance, just get up and I'll follow." Then he looked her squarely in the eye. "As for me, I'm not sure if there's more than a friend interest, and I don't even want to consider exploring that if you don't want to. Either way, I think tonight is not the night to talk about it. Having the patient-healer relationship complicates things too. If we cross that line, I don't think it wise that I continue as your healer. There would need to be serious discussion if we wanted to take things to the next level. But we're not trying to figure that out tonight, alright? We're going to go have fun with your friends."

She burst into tears.

"Clarion?" He set a hand on her back as she wept into the handkerchief.

"You weren't supposed to be sweet about it!"

He wrapped his cool arms around her and rubbed her back as she wept on his shoulder. "It's going to be alright," he promised.

Clarion was surprised at how many of the fairies were dancing at the underground restaurant that apparently served as a dance club.

Spruce leaned over, the music quite loud. "Have you been here before?"

She shook her head and glanced up at him. The place was a bit wild for her, and, by Spruce's glance around the place, for him too.

A couple fairies who had a bit too much honey nectar stumbled into Clarion.

Spruce wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her and gently pulled her to his other side. He grabbed one of the fairies's arms to steady them. "Easy there."

"Queen Clarion! Hey!" the fairy called gleefully.

She gave a slight smile, completely uncomfortable with the atmosphere and suddenly wishing she wasn't in a short skirt.

Spruce patted the male fairy on the back. "I think maybe you should switch to tea."

"Naw," he said with a laugh and stumbled back to the wet bar.

Clarion glanced up at him.

"Do you want the honors?"

She smiled. "Go ahead."

He took her hand to keep her close and led her to the bar, pulling aside the bartender with the directions that fairies weren't to be overserved.

Mary came over and grabbed her other hand. "Come dance!"

Spruce followed, a hand on the small of Clarion's back as if he was worried ruckus would break out at any minute.

She sat down at a table with Spruce while Mary and Gary went to dance.

He scooted closer so she could hear him. "Do you want to stay?" he had to say loudly near her ear to be heard.

"Not really. You?"

"I feel like an old geezer here."

She laughed and stood up to catch Mary's eye. She pointed to the door and waved, signaling they were going to leave.

Mary dragged Gary over, who was still half dancing. She hugged Clarion. "Everything alright?" she called.

Clarion nodded. "Kind of wild for us, but thanks for asking us."

Spruce wove the way through the crowd for her and then let her go up the stairs first.

"Ugh, it's so hot in there," she said when they got outside into the cooler summer air. Then she spun around so fast that she plowed into him.

He caught her in his arms to steady her.

"Are you too warm? I didn't even think about it," she said with wide eyes and reached up to feel his cheek. He was slightly flushed.

"I'll go for a swim in a minute. Do you want to go back home?"

"Not really. I'll walk to the border with you." She slipped her arm through his as they started strolling through the empty fairy village of summer.

He glanced down at their arms with a smile and bent his arm to walk her properly. Then he glanced up at the sky. "Is it safe to be out here after dark? Maybe you should wait inside." Then he looked around. "And where are your guards?"

She smiled at his worrying. "We're fine when it's this early, and I sent my guards home. I hate having them around so much."

He cocked an eyebrow at her in disapproval.

"Don't look at me like that," she scoffed, half laughing.

He looked at her dryly. "Do you really think that was a wise idea?"

She raised her chin in defiance. "Thomas had no objections when I went out with Milori alone."

He snorted. "Having a General as a bodyguard is different than a healer. Sure I know how to kill someone a hundred different ways, but that doesn't mean I could."

"Brauns aren't necessarily everything," she replied, feeling guilty that he probably stood in Milori's shadow so often.

"That's true," he said with a mischievous grin. "For instance, if you sprained your ankle..." He suddenly swept her up in his arms.

She squeaked in surprise and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He set her back on her feet and continued walking with her. "...I could come in handy," he teased.

She laughed, glad to have a playful conversation. "What's the most interesting case you've had?"

He pursed his lips in thought, absently offering her his arm again.

She took it and watched his face. It hadn't ever been apparent to her-his face wasn't necessarily expressive, but his eyes were a window to his thoughts.

"Probably when two fairies who were skating fell and the blade went into the other's neck."

She gasped in horror.

"No, no, it turned out fine. But it was an incredibly exciting surgery," he said with bright eyes. Then he looked at her bashfully. "Sorry, that probably sounds gruesome."

"Well...yes," she laughed. He did too. "You love what you do, don't you?"

"I do. Sometimes I get cranky from three o'clock in the morning calls for something that actually could wait until morning, but I like going to work every day. I suppose you have to when it can be a twenty four-hour job. What about you? What's your favorite part?"

"I'm not sure. No one's ever asked me before." She thought a moment as they walked. "I think helping fairies when they're sick. I sort of liked working with you during the war. You're very good at what you do."

"You were quite impressive yourself," he smiled.

They reached the border.

"Alright, stay right here by these boulders so you can hide in case a bat or something comes." He jumped into the winter side of the border river.

Sitting down in the grass against the boulder, she looked around as she waited. Then she noticed the faintest golden glow in the evergreens above in winter. She squinted, trying to see who was up there. It was odd that someone was watching, especially at this time of night.

Spruce emerged out of the water, frosting himself dry, and then flew back over. "Do you want to continue our stroll? But only near the castle. I don't like you being out this late so far from the guards."

She nodded and took his arm. Glancing over her shoulder back at the trees, she didn't see the glow anymore. Perhaps she had imagined it.


	13. Chapter 13

Clarion woke up in her bed a bit later than usual the next morning and stretched lazily. Last night with Spruce had been fun. They had gotten so caught up in talking that it had been past midnight when they had realized what time it was. She hadn't had such fun talking and just being with someone in so long that she almost didn't remember what it felt like. To not be worried about PTSD, balancing politics and love, or fear that Spruce would suddenly turn tail and run...

There was a knock on her bedchamber door. "Your Highness? Is this still a good time for your exam?" Spruce called through the door.

She bounced out of bed and snatched up her robe. Running past her vanity, she backtracked and snatched up her brush to frantically run it through her hair. "Coming!"

The door opened.

She practically threw her brush down and spun around, half of her hair brushed and half snarled.

He stopped in his tracks and blinked in surprise. "I'm sorry, I thought you said 'come in," he apologized and started backing out.

"It's alright," she said in embarrassment. She grabbed her brush and whipped it through her hair while he was still coming back in. Then she jammed it in her pocket the second he stepped in. She quickly tied shut her robe and darted into the washroom.

"If this is a bad time..." he said, keeping his eyes diverted.

"I thought you did everything yesterday," she said in confusion from the washroom as she quickly brushed her teeth.

"Oh. No, that was just a quick exam to make sure you could handle dancing."

She came out and headed for the closet but froze in her tracks when his words sank in. "Wait, is this another full, full exam?" she asked with hot cheeks.

"...do you want a different healer?" he asked in confusion, his back to her still.

"No," she sighed. "I shouldn't get dressed, should I?"

"I promise I'll be fast. I need your back bare down to your hips."

With an inward groan, she folded the top of her nightdress down so it covered her hips on down and then grabbed a sheet to wrap around herself, letting it droop down her back and clutched it to her front. "Alright."

He turned and stepped behind her to gently sweep her loose hair over her shoulder. Then he started pressing his fingers along her vertebrae. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did." She glanced over her shoulder to see him bending down slightly, shadows apparent under his eyes. "You look tired."

"A call two hours after I went to bed. I figured I'd stop on by here before I head to bed."

"There's no need to do this now," she frowned and started to turn around.

He grabbed her hip to still her and stepped behind her again. "I'm here, let me finish," he smiled.

"I thought you weren't on call last niiiiight," she half squealed and arched her back, lurching forward a couple steps.

He stared at her with wide eyes in surprise.

She turned around to face him, her face red, and she smiled in embarrassment. "I'm sort of ticklish in the middle of my back."

He burst out belly laughing and almost doubled over. "I don't think I've ever heard a noise like that."

"Ha ha."

"Sorry, but that was funny. I wasn't sure if you were in pain or a horse neighing." He wiped the tears from his eyes.

Her mouth fell open and she swatted his arm.

With a chuckle, he caught her arm and pulled her back over. "I promise I'll do it harder."

She gave him a look but turned around.

He continued, pressing a little harder so it didn't tickle. "I'm only on call at all times for certain fairies. It was nothing too serious, but it took awhile." Then his voice was serious. "Are you standing straight?"

"Yes," she replied in confusion.

His hands cupped her hips and he bent down. "Your hips aren't straight."

She was distracted by his large cool hands engulfing her hips, making her feel delicate.

"I need to feel your joints to see if the problem is perhaps one leg being slightly taller."

Tensing a little, she felt him slip his hands under the sheet to palpate her hip joints. When he pulled down the sheet a bit to look and palpated across her pelvis to her tailbone, she felt her face burning.

"Your legs aren't causing it," he said matter of factly and pulled up the sheet, seemingly oblivious to her embarrassment. Then he stood and lifted her hair away from her shoulders. "Your shoulders are straight. How on earth are you doing this? Bend down like you're going to touch your toes. You have to have something with a disc," he mumbled to himself.

She bent forward, clutching the sheet to her front.

Running two fingers down each side of her spine, he stopped between her shoulder blades. "Oh dear. Tell me if this hurts." He applied pressure gradually. "Anything?"

"No."

"Straighten. I'm going to try lifting your wings. Tell me if it starts to ache." He very slowly lifted her folded wings.

As soon as he lifted them a quarter of the way up, she cried out as a sharp pain shot down her back to her left leg.

He lowered her wings quickly and pressed on a spot on her back, calming the pain. "Sorry. You have a herniated disc starting," he sighed and walked around to face her. "Your wings are too heavy for your back to tolerate them being down for the past weeks."

She looked away sheepishly. "I know, I did it to myself. I was waiting for Milori to heal to help with the exercises. I was too embarrassed to let you," she admitted and glanced up at him.

His face was expressionless, but his eyes were sad. "I understand it's embarrassing, but it has to be someone who knows what he's doing. If you mess up your back, I can only fix it so much. You see all of the problems Milori has because he's stubborn. I promise I don't think a thing of anything when I'm treating someone. Here, sit down."

He took her by the elbow and led her to the bed, somehow knowing her back was starting to ache.

Then he pulled over the chair to sit before her. "We're in a corner because the hernia is from your wings being down, but your wings can't raise because of the hernia. You're going to hate me, but I want to admit you to the hospital and drain the fluid. It's a simple needle stick, but it creates a wound near your spinal cord. So, I want you in a sterile environment and monitored for infection for twenty four hours. And I want to do it today or tomorrow before the disc gets worse. I didn't notice this herniation last night, so it's new or it was small last night, which makes me very nervous to let it go on. If it continues swelling at this rate, you could start to have nerve damage to your spinal cord within days."

She sighed and looked out the window over his shoulder.

"I can tell him. I have no doubts that he would come to the hospital," he said gently.

"No. He'd be coming out of pity. I wasn't thinking about him anyways."

A hand was on her knee and she swung her eyes to him.

Looking at her intently he said gently, "Mary and I can take turns staying with you. I know you get nervous in the hospital."

She shook her head and looked away in shame. "She's always helping me, but I never have time to help her. I don't want to ask her," she said quietly.

He leaned down to catch her eye. "Then I'll stay."

"No, Spruce, you're tired and have other patients to see—"

"And I have a friend who needs me," he finished quietly.

Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head.

"Why must you do this alone?" he frowned and scooted to the edge of his chair.

A tear glistened down her cheek. "Because I'm going to wish he was there," she whispered.

"If I mention it to him, I know he'll come on his own."

She shook her head. "Spruce, if he wanted to be even friends, he wouldn't be avoiding me like the plague. I really don't want to be stuck in a hospital bed feeling like I'm an unwanted obligation to him. I'd know he was waiting for you to clear me so he could bolt," she said and another tear ran down her cheek.

"Clarion," he said softly in all seriousness. "You don't know that. And if he did, he's a fool." He cupped her cheek and brushed away her tear with his thumb. "I'm going to stay."

"But you have patients and—"

"And I'm going to stay," he finished firmly and held her eyes with such a gentle look. Then he leaned forward and kissed her brow.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, desperately needing a hug from anyone.

Her sheet started to slip down but, before she could react, he caught it and held it around her as he hugged her.

That last act of kindness was the final straw that made her weep gut-wrenching sobs on his shoulder.

He held her for a long time.


	14. Chapter 14

She walked to the hospital with a couple guards just before sunrise the next morning. Spruce had sent word that he had been called out on an emergency but he would meet her at the hospital. He had been granted the operating room before the other scheduled surgeries being it was short notice and he wasn't on staff.

It was a lonely walk. Even though it was simply a needle stick, she was nervous. Having it done in a surgery suite and having to spend a night in the hospital did not help her nerves. Spruce had explained the low risks of him slipping with the needle and puncturing the spinal cord or causing damage. It was a nearly impossible risk, but he felt morally obligated to tell her that lower body paralysis was also a risk. She felt chilled like she often did when nervous. Rubbing her arms, she happened to glance up to see a glow in the evergreen trees of winter again. With a frown, she squinted, getting the feeling that someone was watching her. And that it was the same fairy again as the other night. Glancing at the two guards flanking each side of her, she saw they didn't notice the fairy. She looked back up and the glow was gone.

The nurses were friendly and tried to chat with her, sensing she was nervous. The intravenous line was in place, her hair was tied up and her back was preliminarily cleansed by the time the nurse said Spruce had arrived and was scrubbing. She felt like she was going to be sick.

Clarion was wheeled into the surgery room and asked to scoot onto the operating table. One of the three nurses helped her keep decent as she transferred, a blanket over her hips and the hospital gown gaping at the back.

"Lie on your side, Your Highness. The healer ordered a mild muscle relaxant and light pain medication just to be safe. If the disc does start to hurt, your back won't spasm. Tessa will hook up the heart monitor to make sure you handle the relaxant fine," she said kindly and injected the line after a beetle's two long antennas were lightly honeyed to her chest and he chirped out her heart rate. The nurse's words terrified Clarion more than anything.

Hearing her own heart rate only made her more nervous, which sped up her heart rate more. A moment later, the surgery doors opened and a fairy in full scrubs backed up into the room with gloved hands held up to keep them clean. He turned and Clarion recognized those blue eyes instantly behind the mask.

"Sounds like a beetle symphony in here," he teased as he walked over, keeping his hands up. "Did you do the push?" he glanced at one of the nurses.

"I did."

"Let's bump it ten percent."

The nurse drew up another syringe.

He looked down at Clarion, who looked wide awake. "I think you're the first to get the opposite effect of a muscle relaxant," he said, his eyes crinkling as if he was smiling behind the mask.

The nurse injected the line.

"It'll be just a stick that will be over within a few seconds. Then you can make fun of me for overreacting with all of this," he promised, his eyes bright.

She nodded and then blinked hard when the room swam.

"That's just the relaxant," he said seriously. "I need your muscles limber so you can't tense and move the needle."

Her heart rate slowed and she started to feel drowsy. It was the strangest feeling in the world to feel one's heart slow and breathing get deeper.

"Good. If you feel like you need to sleep, go to sleep. You relax and let me worry about everything."

She gave a tired smile.

He stepped around her.

Clarion felt the nurses finish scrubbing her back and heard Spruce give some orders, but she couldn't quite understand him.

"Alright, here we go. Can you bring your knees to your chest, Clarion? I need your vertebrae spread." Then he said quietly to a nurse, "Would you help her? She's getting groggy."

Slowly curling her knees up, she tried to fathom why she was on her side on a table. A nurse came around to face her and helped her stay curled up.

"Tell me if it hurts," he told Clarion.

She didn't feel anything besides cool hands on her back for several seconds. "Aren't you...starting?" she asked drowsily.

"Just about finished," he chuckled.

She heard a clank of tools on a medical tray.

"Alright, you're done."

She heard gloves snap and he walked around to her side of the table and pulled off his mask. He laid his hand over hers.

"See? I made a big hoopla for nothing," he smiled. "Now, the nurses are going to take you back to your room while I go jot some things down. I'll be in there in a minute, and I want to find you sleeping."

A sleepy smile curled up her lips. That was the last thing she remembered.

She woke up to see the sun shining and Spruce slouched in a chair in his scrubs beside her bed with his nose in a book. She tried to roll onto her back but something was blocking her.

He quickly set down his book and sat up to take her hand. "Hey, sleeping beauty. I put some pillows behind your back because you were leaking a little bit of spinal fluid when you were flat. It seems to have stopped on its own after a minute, but I just want to make sure. Do you have a headache?"

"Where are we?" she asked in confusion and held her head with one hand.

"At the hospital for your herniated disc," he explained and felt her pulse at her wrist. "Does your head hurt?"

She closed her eyes and nodded.

"Likely from the cerebral fluid loss. We're pumping you full of fluids so it should be better soon." He grabbed a syringe off the counter and injected her line. "I half expected a migraine for you. This will help in a moment."

Her headache went away after a minute, and she drifted off to sleep again.

This time when she woke up, it was early afternoon and she was wide awake instantly.

Spruce was watching her with a smile. "I thought you did turn into Sleeping Beauty. Are you feeling better?"

She nodded. "The pillows are gone," she said in surprise.

"You seem to be doing alright, so you can sit up. If everything goes well, you'll be back on your feet by dinner," he smiled. "Are you hungry for some crackers? I'm afraid not a full lunch because the meds might have left you a little queasy."

"Starving."

He had her laughing about his crazy surgery cases during their lunch of crackers. Then he did another back exam, pleased when her wings could raise half way without difficulty.

"Who sent flowers?" she asked, her heart picking up speed upon seeing the yellow daisies. Perhaps Milori had heard about her hospital stay.

"I did," he answered, a smile evident in his tone.

She blinked in surprise, her heart falling slightly.

He helped her sit up, catching her hospital gown when it threatened to slip off her shoulder.

"Spruce?" she asked softly as he walked around the bed to face her. Her eyes searched his. Even though she had told Spruce not to tell Milori that she was here, she had still hoped he magically would appear and be filled with worry and apologies. But then again, how could she trust him that he would never leave after he had already broken that promise? What if next time he left when she had a baby in her arms?

Spruce stopped before her and looked at her, their faces inches apart. "Yes?" he asked, his eyes serious as they searched hers.

It hurt so much. She wanted the pain that had been in her heart for hundreds of years to just end. She looked up at him. Perhaps Mary was right. With Spruce she could forget about the pain for at least a little while. With him she could pretend her heart wasn't cut. "Thank you for staying and for the flowers," she said softly. "And for the surgery."

"I'm more than happy to be here," he replied huskily and took a step closer so his stomach brushed her knees.

Tilting her head back to look up into blue eyes that reminded her of someone else's from centuries ago, she let her eyes flutter shut when he slowly leaned down.

She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and jerked her head back from Spruce to turn her head.

Milori stood in the doorway looking shocked.

She couldn't seem to think of anything to do but stare in surprise. And then she was ashamed, for some reason, that he had seen her almost kiss Spruce even though they were no longer together.

Milori looked absolutely crestfallen as his eyes darted between her and Spruce. His mouth opened but no words came out. His chest started heaving and his face contorted as if painfully confused. "Clarion?" he almost whimpered as if hoping he had seen an illusion.

Spruce was the first to regain his senses. He stepped back and looked at Milori. "I think you and I need to talk," he said calmly.

"Oh no. You and I are going to do more than talk," he snorted. "Get out."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, still baffled.

His eyes turned to her, full of pain. "I heard you were admitted for surgery," he answered sadly. Then he looked away and swallowed hard. "I thought..." He closed his eyes for an instant. "I stupidly thought you'd need someone to be here with you," he said bitterly.

She shook her head, tears springing to her eyes. "I'm no longer your obligation, another duty to check off your list."

He drew a sharp breath, almost as if she had just reached in and ripped out his heart.

Her face crumpled, the scab on her heart being painfully picked away by him. "Don't you dare," she hiccuped. "Don't you dare come in here and make me feel guilty for trying to move on when you keep tossing me in the trash!" she barked.

"Alright," Spruce cut in and set a hand on her arm. "You need to keep your blood pressure down." Then he let go and turned to Milori, grabbing his arm and forcing him out into an empty hospital room and then shut the door.

Milori spun on him. "How dare you try to steal my mate," he hissed.

"Your mate?" Spruce snarled, his sugar boiling. "The female you cast aside? The female who would drop any other in a heartbeat if you asked her to come back? The one you keep throwing away?"

Milori's hands fisted at his sides to keep from punching his friend. "You have no idea what you're speaking about," he growled, his eyes dangerously narrowed.

"I don't? You damn idiot, you have no idea what you're throwing away. She doesn't love me-she's so hurt and alone that she is trying to hide from the pain with a rebound. She doesn't actually love me! She told me that she's still in love with you! I would give anything to have a female look at me the way she looks when she says your name. You should be ashamed of the pain you're causing her. I would not betray you by going after your intended, but, clearly, you have no intention of fixing whatever stupid thing you've done," he barked.

Milori pushed him back and held him against the wall. "Don't you dare go after her," he snarled, his entire body vibrating with anger.

Spruce remained calm. "Did it ever occur to you that your new temper since the war frightens her?" he asked quietly.

Milori blinked and slowly let go of Spruce as his words sank in.

"You have issues, Milori, that need to be dealt with before you go crawling back to her. She didn't want you to know about her being here. She said she knew you'd be doing it as an obligation and would be waiting to bolt the second I sent her home." He leaned his head down to catch Milori's eye when Milori stared at the ground in shock. "The fairy before the war would never have dreamed of abandoning her."

Tears glistened in his eyes when he looked at his friend with a heavy heart. "I haven't abandoned her."

She was sitting in bed with her knees curled up to her chest, quietly crying. He had come, just like she had wanted, but it was a worse mess than before. He stepped into the room with tears in his eyes and stayed back by the door. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come uninvited and-"

"Neverland forbid you stick around through something tough," she threw at him, wanting him to know how much she hurt.

"What do you want me to do?" he snapped angrily and shut the door before turning back to her. "I walk in here to find you about to kiss my friend! I'm not stupid; I've heard the rumors about him courting you. Am I supposed to congratulate you for replacing me in less than a week?!" He thrust his finger at his chest forcefully. "I came to make sure you're alright, and I find this?!"

Her eyes snapped to him, hard and angry. "Then you fulfilled your duty. I'm alive, so you can go!"

"Why the hell are you even in the hospital?" he demanded.

"That's no longer your concern," she hissed.

He marched over to her with a slight limp and looked like he wanted to wring her neck. "There's so much that you don't understand," he growled. "Why are you here?"

She glared up at him. "Go ask your best friend, who has time to even care," she spat.

"He's not my best friend," he growled. "You are." Then he captured her lips in a rough but gentle kiss, one hand cupping the back of her head and burying in her tresses that were still piled on her head.

She wanted to resist him and knew he would break her heart again as soon as the kiss was done, but she couldn't help herself. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek that was as familiar to her as her own and laid her other hand on his strong shoulder. She was the one who deepened the kiss, and he was more than compliant, pressing her back into the pillows and drinking her in. Then he suddenly broke the kiss.

"No one can see the Heavens when they kiss but us," he whispered, his honey eyes looking into her heart. And then he was gone.

He had somehow healed and then cut her heart again. Anger bubbled up that he had left her like this, leaving her more confused than before. She grabbed the first thing next to her and hurled it at the open door. The empty bedpan crashed on the floor with a loud clatter. Then she heard Milori demand from Spruce to know what was wrong with her. Heavy, uneven footsteps were heard fading down the hall a minute later.

She burst into tears.


	15. Chapter 15

She was in tears when Spruce walked in a minute later. "Did you tell him?" she sniffled, trying to stop the waterworks.

He sighed and walked over to stand beside the bed. "I should ask for your forgiveness," he apologized. "I thought it best for him to know. But I promise anything from here on out won't leave my lips." He sat down in the chair, his eyes focused on her in concern as he handed her tissues.

Her face crumpled all over again. "If he cared, he wouldn't have left. Why did he go?" She looked at him with such confused, innocent eyes that his face fell.

"I wish I knew, Clarion," he said sadly and set his hand on her knee that was under the blanket. "I honestly wish I knew."

She had trouble with high blood pressure causing intense headaches the rest of the day. Spruce kept increasing the intravenous fluids until he started to worry about her heart, so he switched her to a low dose of blood pressure medication. It made her feel faint and nauseous, but if he lowered the dose her pressure would shoot up even with massages and other relaxation techniques. The dosage kept gradually rising with each passing hour. And he knew the exact source of the problem.

Scooping her up, he grabbed the intravenous pole and started down the hall with her.

She loosely held onto his neck, any movement making her fight to keep from losing her stomach. At the moment, she didn't particularly care where he was taking her.

"We're going to work on removing as many stress factors as possible. I can't discharge you, so we're going outside to watch the sunset. I'll sit up all night keeping watch if you need to sleep in the grass to get your pressure under control. He is not worth this, Clarion," he said firmly. "You're approaching doses that are too high, too fast, and stroking is becoming a real possibility."

His voice was steady, but she heard the undertone of fear.

"I wish he hadn't come," she said quietly, laying her head on his shoulder when she started to feel faint from him walking.

"I wish I had punched him is what I wish," he growled as he carried her across the lawn toward a bench.

A slight laugh escaped her, surprised at hearing him express a temper.

"Oh, you think that's funny? I'm not sure you'd find it funny having to be my right hand during surgeries seeing as I'd break it by punching him for you," he said dryly.

That drew out a bark of laughter from her, and she lifted her head slightly to see if he was serious.

He sat down with her in his lap, a soft smile on his lips as he looked up at the intravenous pole to make sure it was still flowing. Propping his left arm on the armrest, he reclined her back in his lap slightly, almost as if holding a baby. "You'll get a migraine sitting up too high. Your job is to relax." He started lightly grazing his finger back and forth behind her ear.

She was surprised when it started making her drowsy. Her eyes drifted shut and she sighed as her body began to relax. "What are you doing?" she asked lazily.

"Females supposedly are very sensitive here, and it's supposed to make you relax. Read about it this afternoon. Is it working?" he asked with a hint of a smile in his deep voice.

"Mm," was her only response. Then she felt him try to be inconspicuous as he felt the pulse at her neck. "How about you stop being a healer outside of the hospital," she requested lazily.

A light chuckle filled her ears. "That defeats the purpose of bringing you out here to see if this helps calm you down."

"What calms me down is not being in that hospital," she drawled, her body feeling like pudding. "Send me home and I'll be practically cured."

"Mm," he grunted. "You would like that, no doubt."

"Wise male," she said dryly.

He barked out a laugh. "Your sense of humor is returning. I take it you are feeling a little better?" He continued stroking behind her ear.

"Enough to know I want to go home."

"Always good to hear when patients want to see me a thousand miles behind them-it means they're getting better," he said, sounding quite happy about it.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him with sad eyes. "I imagine you're relieved to get back to your life when patients are healed," she said quietly.

He held her eyes, the sunlight on his face making his strong features seem as perfect as a painting. "Usually I am a little relieved. There is one patient for whom I find myself hoping trivial matters will keep popping up to keep her in my care where so much time spent together won't be questioned," he said quietly. Then he looked away with embarrassment, "Forgive me, I'm tired and let my mouth run away with me. I shouldn't have said that."

Studying him, she thought about his words. "Spruce?" she asked gently.

"Please, I was out of line. We said that we would discuss it if things were going to change. You're terribly in need of a healer, which comes first and foremost. I also know that you've incredibly vulnerable today, and it was wrong of me to say anything."

She set a hand on his arm as he stroked behind her ear. "Spruce, you, I have no doubts, will be an amazing mate. I care for you, but I'm afraid that you would be a rebound relationship. And you don't deserve that."

He nodded, only half listening. "Forget I said anything," he added quickly, desperate to have the conversation end.

"Look at me," she asked. When he did she said, "I have no idea how long it takes to get over something like this, but..." Her face flamed. "I honestly mean it when I say that I know I would be happy with you."

He searched her face, his eyes soft. "Thank you, Clarion. That...that means a lot. I know you need a friend right now, and I'm more than willing to be that for you. I understand that you love him and probably are meant to be his mate. For your sake, I hope fixes whatever happened because I want to see you happy."

Tears filled her eyes. "Don't say things like that because it makes me sad when you have been nothing but good to me."

He stroked a lock of hair away from her cheek as he held her eyes. "I like to think that everything happens for a reason. The worst case for me is I've gained a very dear friend. Someone is out there for each of us. I just want you to end up with who makes you happy and I'll be happy too."

She didn't doubt a word he said and stretched out her arms, too dizzy to move herself. He leaned down, and she hugged him. He returned it, his arms cool and strong.

When she looked over his shoulder, she saw a glow high up in the spring trees not so far away. When she blinked, it was gone.


	16. Chapter 16

"Clarion! Why are you in the hospital, and why didn't anyone tell me?!" Mary barked as she came bustling into the hospital room the next morning.

"Shhh!" Clarion looked quickly at poor Spruce, who had fallen asleep in the chair beside Clarion's bed well after midnight when her pressure had started to come back down. But her shush was too late for he startled as if awoken from the dead and nearly fell out of the chair.

He looked at Clarion with wide eyes. "What's wrong?" His eyes immediately swooped to the small garden snake wrapped around her upper arm. Spruce had wrapped it on her during the night to monitor her pressure by gently contracting its body every few minutes and quietly hiss out the readings. He ran his hand over his face, trying to wake up.

"I'm fine. Mary came in," she explained. "You should go home and sleep for a bit."

Mary marched over to the chair and waited for him to get up. "Go. I'm quite irritated with her and won't let anything happen. She needs a good reaming out first," she huffed.

Spruce stood and ran a hand through his hair, his cheeks flushed from being in summer for so long. "Alright. Your numbers are better. Do you feel alright?"

Clarion nodded. "Go on," she said gently.

He stifled a yawn. "I'll be back in a couple hours." Then he looked at Mary, who was looking rather irritated. "Do not upset her. It took hours to get her blood pressure under control," he ordered. He gave a nod to Clarion and then left.

"Why call it blood pressure when we don't even have blood?" Mary mumbled. Then she sat and turned to Clarion expectantly with her head held high.

"I didn't want to impose on you yet again. You help me so much, and I rarely can find the time to do anything for you," Clarion explained.

Mary pursed her lips. "I rather think it's up to me to decide if I want to come when you're having surgery!" she barked out the last word.

"It was not surgery. It was just a needlestick to draw out some fluid from one of my discs that was herniated. He said he was just being cautious doing it here instead of at home. It was nothing major, and I saw no need to make a big deal out of it."

"Nothing major? You're still in the hospital the next day!"

"Because of my blood pressure. Milori came yesterday, and it didn't go well."

Mary's eyes narrowed. "Why isn't he here grovelling?" she demanded.

Clarion told her what happened.

"Oooooh! I'll give that lord a piece of my mind if I see him! How can you understand what you don't understand if he won't tell you what to understand?!" Mary's wings fluttered angrily. She started fluttering her hand in her face.

"Mary, calm down. I've let it go and don't really want to talk about it again."

Mary eyed her. "You've let it go? It wouldn't have anything to do with a certain healer, would it?" she asked in curiosity with a cocked eyebrow. "He's easy on the eyes, if I do say so myself."

"Mary!" she gasped in embarrassment.

"As if you haven't noticed," she said with a waive of her hand, suddenly calm again. "Has he kissed you?" She leaned forward in her chair with bright eyes.

"Mary! That is private!" she gasped, her face flaming.

"He did! Oh, do tell! You owe me for not telling me about the surgery." She flew up and sat on the edge of Clarion's bed.

"It was not a surgery," she argued.

"Pish posh, you owe me. He kissed you, didn't he? Oh, Clarion, he's such a good fairy. You're so happy when you're with him. I probably shouldn't say it, but I worried about you with Milori. There was so much stress, and he was so up and then down. Before he lost his wing, you seemed happy with him. But I worry that you missed him so much all of these years simply because it became a habit. You were so happy the first few days he came back after the freeze, but it started to fade. Since the war, you looked like you aged. You look younger again with Spruce." She set her hand over Clarion's.

"I'm so confused, Mary. Please don't tell a soul because Spruce doesn't deserve to be gossiped about, but I need to talk to someone," she said, sounding so miserable. And probably looking it too sitting in the hospital bed in a hospital gown, with an intravenous line in one arm and the snake still wrapped around her other, and her hair probably a mess by now.

Mary flew over to the door and closed it before resuming her seat on the bed. "What is it?" she asked with concern.

"Spruce was going to kiss me yesterday just when Milori walked in."

"No! He didn't!" she gasped.

"He did. Mary, I'm not sure if I'm starting to have feelings for Spruce because it still hurts from Milori, he reminds me of Milori, or I really do like Spruce," she said with a heavy heart, so confused.

"Well, have you talked to Spruce about it?"

She nodded. "He's so sweet about it. He practically admitted to have feelings last night, but he's worried about it affecting our professional relationship. I almost get the feeling that he's shoving away feelings before he can even feel them, but if I said I wanted to court he would probably propose within weeks. I don't know how I feel about him, but I do care for him very much. Oh, Mary, what do I do? What if Milori comes back?"

Mary looked at her with empathy. "I can't tell you what to do. I'm afraid it just has to play out and you need to listen to your heart."

Tears filled Clarion's eyes. "Mary, it hurts so much what Milori did, and I don't know if that damage can be fixed. I'm so scared to trust him again. But I'm scared that I'm starting to fall for Spruce. He's so much like what I thought Milori was so many years ago. Maybe I'm supposed to be Spruce's mate. I don't understand, I thought it was fairly clear once a mate is found. But this, this is so confusing. I can picture myself with both of them."

Mary pulled out a tissue and dabbed at Clarion's wet cheeks. Then she looked at Clarion. "And which future makes you happy?" she asked softly.

That was exactly what frightened Clarion.

She was allowed to resume moderate activity the next day and nothing stressful until Spruce knew if her blood pressure was fully recovered. Clarion kept to herself for the next couple days, performing the lighter of her duties and leaving the ministers to see to anything that wasn't an emergency. Spruce kept his distance when she requested a couple days alone to think, and he was sweet and gracious about it, which only drove her up the wall. He couldn't possibly always be so perfect.

She was walking with her guards trailing a little behind her at sunset. She found that it was most relaxing to her to do her wing exercises outside on walks while thinking. Near the border of fall and winter, she heard a flutter and looked up.

Spruce was flying over with his medical bag in hand and landed with a bow. "Forgive me, I know you need some space. I was flying past on my way home from a call when I saw you. You can't keep your wings up for so long because you risk damaging your frame or muscles. Just ten lifts twice a day, not a million," he teased lightly, his eyes cautious as if unsure what her reaction would be to seeing him.

"When was the last time you yelled?" she asked.

He blinked. "Pardon?"

"Got angry. You are always so composed and compliant that it drives me insane."

He chuckled and folded his hands behind his back, still holding onto his bag. "Odd question, but if you must know, I just finished having a yelling match with a winter fairy who thinks my advice is more useless than the air I use to say the words."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And I would bet Milori is the only one who would give you such a hard time."

He didn't flinch. "I do not comment on my patients."

She smiled. "Of course you don't. He can make anyone yell. What else drives you crazy?"

His eyebrow cocked for a moment, confused by the need to know. "Well, if we are talking about you, the fact that you keep your thoughts so bottled up drives me crazy."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Oh really?" she asked, slightly surprised at his bold answer. "Am I to go blurting every thought that comes into my head?"

He met her eyes straight on, not at all intimidated that he was embarking on an argument with the Queen regarding what he saw as one of her shortcomings in her personality. "Naturally not, but with friends and a few fairies you need to let your guard down. There is no need to be a queen every second of the day."

She waived her hand for the guards to fall back so she could have a little privacy. "And you're included in that group?" she countered.

He nodded. "I think I've earned a degree of your trust." Studying her tense posture he said, "Come on, let me have it. I can take it."

He stood tall and strong, not flinching from confrontation and yet being very constructive about it. "Fine," she said with her chin held high to meet his eyes squarely. "I find it a bit presumptuous of you and suspect you are phishing for information."

"Information about what?" he countered.

She held back the flush from her cheeks. "You want to know if I love you."

He didn't flinch one muscle, yet she had expected him to blush and stutter excuses. Instead, he was cool and collected. She suddenly had a flash of him standing beside her as a lord who could be quite powerful and legendary in ways that would make Pixie Hollow flourish.

"Since we are being frank, yes, I would like to figure out just where I stand. However, that is a step that I don't think we're ready to take."

"And you would take it, if I asked?" she asked, her tone cool and reserved like a true queen.

"You already know the answer to that. I think now that you are phishing," he dared to say. His eyes were warm and curious.

Her eyes squinted the slightest bit as she tried to gauge him. "You are cheeky."

"And you are delightful," he smiled. "Your title does not intimidate me and you cannot make me run, which is what I suspect you are trying to figure out. You may be a mystery to some, Your Highness, but you are easy for me to read." He took a couple steps closer and looked down into her eyes. "What many fail to see is you are not hard. You keep a physical distance and a mask on with the belief that you are concealing your true thoughts and emotions. What they have failed to realize, Your Highness, is you wear your heart in your eyes. Right now you are afraid because I have found a chink in your armor. You have feelings for me that confuse you and make you feel guilty that you are betraying my lord. I see all of this," he said gently without touching her as he searched her eyes and molded her emotions into words. "And I know you need time. I stay away only because I do not want to frighten you. In time you will either bolt or creep toward me like a deer, which is incredibly hard to earn its trust. If you must be coerced to come to me, you will only run in a matter of time. But if you come to me on your own, I know you will stay. I want a mate who will trust me completely, and we will trust each other completely without any fears. Know that me staying back is not me looking to run, it is waiting to see if you will run to me," he said intimately with such painful tenderness.

She was blown away by his words, both startled and amazed that he could see so far into her heart. Then he stepped back and gave a bow before he flew off into winter, leaving her staring after him.

It was then that she noticed a glow in the winter trees. It was slightly bigger than she remembered the other times, but then again she was a little closer this time. She turned to the guards. "Go see who is up there," she ordered.

Two of the four guards flew up there, the other two stepping closer to her and drawing their swords.

She heard a twig snap behind her and spun around, nearly screaming when she saw Sleet.

One of the guards instantly stepped in front of her. "State your purpose," the guard ordered.

He looked scruffy, as always, and was leaning his weight on one foot. He was lazily biting into an apple as he looked her up and down, completely comfortable with having a sword in his face. "Ain't wise to be out this late," he drawled in his rusty voice.

A shiver ran up her spine. The two other guards hurried back without anyone, and she suspected it was Sleet who had been in the tree. "What difference is it to you?" she questioned firmly, truly curious.

He shrugged and took another bite.

"Why were you in the tree?"

"I was having my apple and relaxing at the end of a long day," he replied disinterestedly.

She touched the arms of the two guards who stood between her and Sleet.

They reluctantly stepped back but wouldn't move behind her. Clearly they were as suspicious of Sleet as she was.

"Is it you who has been in the trees watching me lately?" she demanded, refusing to let him think he was playing some kind of game of cat and mouse.

"Can't say. I'm often in the trees to keep an eye on winter for His Lordship." He tossed the apple core over his shoulder. "Are you looking for me?" He met her eyes.

She didn't know if that was some kind of innuendo, but she was tired of his games. She took a step closer to him. "Then I expect you to know who has been following me in the trees, if you keep watch over winter. You have two days to give me an answer," she growled, her patience gone. She turned and started to walk away, surrounded by her guards.

"And if I do not?" he called.

She stopped and looked at him straight in the eye over her shoulder. "I think we both know that isn't an option." Then she walked away, the perfect image of a regal and commanding queen.

Sleet flew back into winter and found Milori alone at Frost Lake. "The Queen said she's been seeing a fairy glow following her in the trees," he rasped.

Milori's eyes narrowed. "Then I guess we need to keep a better eye out, don't we?" he replied darkly.


	17. Chapter 17

It was a bright and sunny day a couple mornings later. Clarion sat at her window watching the activities of Pixie Hollow not too far away. Tinkerbell was working on some kind of new contraption down below with Clank and Bobble. Vidia was busy spinning Silvermist's water to soften the soil for Rosetta so she could plant some tulips, and Iridessa moved the sunlight onto the bulbs. The birds were chirping, butterflies were dancing in the fields and squirrels and woodland animals were playing. It was a glorious day, and Clarion felt like she finally had some clarity about Milori and Spruce. The time away from both of the males had given her time to digest her conversation with Mary in the hospital, and her heart felt a little lighter. She knew what her heart wanted, although it broke her heart to have to let go of the other male.

There was a knock on her bedchamber door. "Come in!" Clarion bid.

A fairy flew in hesitantly, wearing a nurses uniform. "Beg your pardon, Your Highness," she gave a curtsy.

"Lilly," she said in surprise and stood. "Is everything alright?" Clarion wasn't too familiar with this shy fairy, but she did know she was a sweet and intelligent hospital nurse.

"Healer Spruce, I believe...?"

Clarion nodded.

"He sent the hospital a missive to assist you with your morning wing exercises. He said he was called away on an emergency surgery." The poor thing looked nervous.

Clarion sighed. "Alright." She sat down in a chair and Lilly walked up behind her but hesitated.

"I don't bite," Clarion smiled over her shoulder.

She looked Clarion in the eye. "I'm sorry." Then she stepped closer and lightly set her hands on Clarion's back, feeling if the muscles needed massaging before moving the wings.

Clarion faced forward with a frown. "Forgive me, I don't believe I know much about you."

"There isn't much to know," she said in embarrassment. "Has your back been sore?"

"No." Then she turned in her seat for a moment to look at the fairy, who turned slightly red. Clarion's eyes narrowed. "You're frightened. Why?" she asked gently.

Her wings trembled with her nervous vibrations, and large brown eyes looked at her as if fearing for her life.

Clarion stood and held out her hand. "Come here."

She didn't move. Instead, she pulled a vial out of her pocket, and Clarion instantly stumbled backwards in fear. The fairy held a bottle of poison oak juice. A single drop on a wing would blister and burn away the wing. Or kill a Queen instantly.

"Why do you have that?" she demanded nervously, reluctant to call the guards because she sensed this terrified fairy wouldn't speak if she was any more frightened.

Tears cursed down her cheeks, and she slowly set the bottle on the floor. "He said he'd kill me if I don't put it on your w,wings," she hiccuped.

"Who?" she demanded.

She shook her head. "I don't know. A male fairy in dark clothes. He stopped me in the field on the way over," she wept. "He said he'd be watching."

Clarion spun around and whipped the curtain shut. "Guards! Guards!"

"No! Please! I wouldn't do it!" Lilly begged in a panic as several guards surged into the room. They immediately seized the female as soon as they saw the bottle of poison.

"Thomas," she ordered, who was now back on duty after the speedy healing from his mate. Her eyes remained locked on the fairy who looked beyond terrified. "Bring me Spruce, Sleet and Lord Milori. Now. And I want Pixie Hollow locked down. It seems we have an Alamur in our midst."

Spruce was the first to arrive in the throne room, where she was waiting with the female in chains and several guards. He instantly flew over to Clarion. "Are you alright?"

She nodded and looked over at the female, who was sitting in a chair with her head bowed and tears on her cheeks. "She doesn't have anymore weapons, but I saw bruises under her collar. She's afraid to say anything, but I think she might have been beaten by an Alamur. I want you to check her."

He glanced over at the fairy and then back at Clarion in confusion.

Holding his eyes she said, "She's afraid of me. You're gentle enough that I think she might talk to you."

He nodded and walked over to the fairy, kneeling down before her and setting down his bag. "I'm a healer, Spruce. The Queen has asked me to check that you aren't hurt from that male. Did he do anything to you?"

Keeping her eyes downcast, she only whispered, "I wasn't going to do it." A tear dropped into her lap.

"I know," he said gently. "And the Queen knows that too." He reached up to brush a lock of dark brown hair away from her face, but she flinched. "I won't hurt you," he said softly, searching her face and carefully tucked her lock of hair behind her ear. "May I check if he hurt you? I'll send the guards out for privacy," he explained, keeping his voice soft and low to calm her.

She shook her head.

"Why don't you want me to make sure you're alright?" he asked gently, his eyes searching what he could see of her face as he tried to understand this frightened creature. "Do you want a female healer?"

"I don't want to be sedated," she sniffled.

"Why would you need sedation?" he asked in confusion.

She slowly pulled down her collar to reveal a long slice on the side of her neck that was slightly scarred and bubbled.

He instantly leaned forward on his knees, his eyes concerned when they moved from the wound to her face. "How did you get that to stop?" he whispered, unable to completely conceal the horror in his voice.

Her lip quivered as she held his eyes. "I was hemorrhaging," she whispered.

He snatched her up and ran for the door. "Thomas! Tell the hospital I'm coming with a possible Code Blue!" he called and threw his back against the heavy wood door as he raced out.

Clarion had no idea what was going on, but she ran out after him and summoned a sparrow to take them. She had been to the hospital often enough to help heal fairies that she knew Code Blue was cardiac arrest.

"Clarion," he said as he handed over Lilly to a guard and flew up onto the bird. Then he reached his arms down for the female, who looked pale, and settled her in his lap. "I need you to bring dust. She used the poison to cauterize the wound. And she poisoned herself by doing it." Then he took off with Lilly.

Clarion stood back at the hospital and watched Spruce work frantically to replace Lilly's sugar and dust as fast as he could without killing her.

"Why would she not have said anything?" she asked after Lilly had fainted and Spruce was calmer with the most dangerous part behind them. She stood beside him in the operating room and helped slow the sugar loss with dust from her hands as he started surgery on Lilly's neck to cut out the poisoned tissue. They were both in scrubs, and she glanced to her right where Spruce stood beside the table with a scalpel.

"She might have been too terrified to really think straight. Direct poison oak into sugar can cause confusion," he explained behind his mask as he worked, his eyes intent on his task. "I need suction!" he barked at a nurse beside him when he hit a vein. "More dust."

Clarion waved her hand over the area, careful not to touch anything because she needed bare hands to release the dust.

He had his hands back in Lilly's neck again. "This wound was meant to kill. It makes no sense when he wanted her to poison you."

She glanced up at him to see his face flushed and surgical hat damp at his brow. "You've been out of winter too long. It's hot out today. Hold still for a moment."

"I don't have a moment. She's losing sugar."

"She'll lose more if the surgeon faints." She swept her hands over him, creating a light frost.

"That's enough," he said, anxious to get back to the surgery.

She sighed with frustration and continued frosting his back where she didn't have to worry about him moving and getting his eyes frosted by accident, which could result in blindness.

"Where's Milori?" he growled from behind his mask. "Thomas said you summoned him too."

"Because I need the army brought out. And I have no idea where the hell he is," she said with irritation, not pleased that her guards had to go chase him down when they needed to be guarding the village. "Why? Jealous?" she teased.

He gave her an irritated look from behind his mask and continued with stitching. He cleared his throat pointedly without looking at her.

She studied him for a moment. "Sorry," she said quietly, forgetting they had an audience of a couple nurses. "Did you have time to check if she's hurt anywhere else?" she asked seriously.

"Bruises from where it looks like he grabbed her upper arms, but that's it. Quite lucky, if it was an Alamur." He held out his hand to the nurse, who helped him get off his gloves and put on new ones to bandage.

"You were very good with her," Clarion mentioned, referring to the throne room.

He shrugged.

She was suddenly serious. "She's your mate, isn't she?" she asked quietly so no one else would hear.

His hands still for just an instant, and then he looked at her. "Let's talk afterwards. Go on and wash. I'll be there in a minute," he said solemnly.

She was out of scrubs and almost done washing her hands when he walked in. He pulled his scrubs off and glanced at her, looking as if he was slightly unsure what to say. Then he walked over to the sink and started washing.

"I'm sorry," he said with his eyes focused on his hands, his heart clearly hurting.

She shook her head and blinked away her tears. "I'm happy for you. I knew something was different the moment you touched her hair. You looked at her differently. And then you were so frantic to get to the hospital." She turned away and dried her hands. She couldn't tell him that she loved him. Perhaps not in the way that she loved Milori, but it would have blossomed into a strong love. She couldn't tell him that she adored working in medicine with him, and she wanted to see if he was agreeable to her working as his nurse a few days a month. She couldn't tell him that she had been able to picture their lives together, with him delivering their baby. She couldn't tell him that it felt so right with him who offered a calm and steady love that would root deep and strong. She couldn't tell him that she was going to ask him today if he would consider courting her.

His arms went around her as he gently turned her around to hold her. "I thought you were my mate," he whispered.

She pulled away, knowing she would never be able to stop weeping if he held her. "You deserve someone as innocent as she is, Spruce," she said with tears in her eyes but meaning it with her whole heart.

He swallowed hard. "Clarion, I love you, but I didn't realize until I touched her that there is a deeper kind of love that's...different. I meant every word I ever said. But you know that feeling where you just...know. I wouldn't walk away if I didn't feel that with her. You must have felt that with Milori." He took her hands in his. Then his face fell. "You've never felt that, have you?" he asked sadly, his heart breaking at the thought of leaving her all alone.

She looked away, humiliated that he pitied her. "Some aren't meant to have mates," she said softly with her head held high, pulling down her mask that would protect her heart. "And that's for the best for a queen."

"Don't. No, don't shut down," he pleaded as if it was his own heart she was ripping out. "You are so precious to me. I know you don't believe me, but I would have mated you in a heartbeat if I had thought you loved me. I can't explain it, but you will hold a piece of my heart forever. We would have been happy if we had mated. But your heart would have always been with another, even though you don't see it," he said gently, desperate to not completely lose her forever.

She smiled but with bitterness and a broken heart. "I know it is. And I know that it will die along with him in the North Woods," she said quietly, realizing now that Milori must be her mate. And he had damned her to a life of loneliness.

"Clarion," he begged, tears springing to his eyes to see how much she was dying inside. "He has to come back. You have to have an heir," he said with a furrowed brow.

She gave a sad smile, realizing he was trying to figure out how she could have a happily ever after. With a shake of her head she explained, "A new queen will arrive, just as if I fade from an accident or illness prematurely."

His face fell and his eyes searched hers, clearly not having realized it was possible for a fairy to be alone forever.

She stepped closer and brushed a kiss over his cheek. "I loved you as much as I was capable. I truly am happy for you," she whispered in his ear. Then she quietly walked out of the room alone.


	18. Chapter 18

When she had arrived home, Thomas had approached her in her chambers.

"My queen, I apologize for telling you this, but I think it best you aren't taken by surprise tonight. Lord Milori sent a note to the castle regarding a meeting to discuss the army," he said gently, holding a piece of paper in his hand. "Sled mentioned to me privately that I should warn you Lord Milori has been spending a lot of time with a female winter fairy, apparently a Minister of Winter."

She felt her face pale.

Thomas grabbed her arm and lowered her onto the bed. "Forgive me, I didn't break that gently, did I?" He quickly ran a leaf rag under cold water and came back to set it on the back of her neck. "I'm sorry. We thought it might be too much of a shock if you walked into the meeting not knowing," he offered. Then he knelt before her and wiped her brow. "Are you going to faint?"

Staring at him for a moment, she numbly shook her head. "The note?"

He handed it to her.

"Please give me a few minutes," she asked.

Tactics at cabin. 6 pm.

M

That was it. Her once love letters from him were reduced to phrases and an initial and only came because they needed to discuss battle tactics. He didn't even say 'our' cabin. He had picked the perfect timing to throw it in her face that he didn't love her anymore-she was so raw that his letter felt like fingernails scraping over an open wound. If he had felt anything when he had come to the hospital, she had clearly killed it. She had slid down to her knees on the floor and wept when she had read the letter. To go face him, especially at their cabin, was the last thing she wanted when her heart was so broken. But a queen never shirked her duties. Right now, Pixie Hollow needed her to discuss tactics with its General. And she knew the price would be the death of her heart. She didn't realize that her dress and wings had been slowly losing their glitter over the past days. Today they had finally gone out.

She sat at her window and waited for the next few hours to pass so she could get the meeting over, hopefully finally receiving the last blow tonight to her heart that would kill it and put it out of it's misery from the past three hundred years.

There was a knock on her door a little while later.

"Come in," she called with a heavy heart, not even turning from the window.

"It's me. May I come in?"

Her head whipped around to see Spruce in the doorway. She stood quickly. "Is Lilly ill?" she asked instinctively.

"No, she's doing quite well. She used so little poison on the wound that it took awhile to start causing organ problems, which have reversed, thanks to your sugar and dust."

She swallowed hard and turned back to the window, suddenly fighting back tears upon seeing him. "Good," was all she could say before her throat closed up.

"I wanted to thank you-"

"I don't discriminate which fairies I help," she replied a little more curtly than she intended.

"I know that you probably don't want anything to do with me right now, but I also wanted to remind you to have someone help you with your wing exercises that we didn't get to this morning."

She nodded, not brushing away the tear that rolled down her cheek opposite of him because she didn't want him to know she was crying. He deserved to be excited about finding a mate.

He stepped closer. "Please look at me for a moment," he asked softly and gently started to turn her by her arm.

Quickly brushing away her tear, she resisted him for a moment when it was replaced with another.

"Clarion," he said in a thick voice and took a deep breath as if fighting tears himself. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you'd take it this hard. I didn't know you felt this strongly."

"And that is my own fault." She pulled away and walked away a bit to her other window on the same wall. "I need you to go," she said only slightly louder than a whisper, with her arms wrapped around herself. Having him so close, the one who had started to slay her fears but then in the end had left her alone with her demons, was more painful than she could stand.

He hesitated. "Please, what will help? I don't want to leave you alone like this. I don't know what to do because I want to comfort you, but I know I'm the source of your pain. He'll realize what a mistake he's made and come back."

"Stop. Just stop," she begged.

"He will."

She spun around. "He's with someone else!" she cried.

His eyes were wide with shock.

Turning away with a hand over her mouth, she fought to not sob. "Please," she begged, her voice breaking and tears coming steadily now.

He walked over and kissed her brow. "I will come after tomorrow to check on you. You don't have to let me in, you just have to know that I came. To know that someone does care, Clarion." She stared past him, in so much pain she couldn't even move. She felt an icy cold tear fall on her arm. And then he quietly walked out.

She sank to her knees, his words ripping sobs out of her as she wept into her hands. They always cared, they just never cared enough to not leave her in the end.


	19. Chapter 19

She finally felt hollow. Never before had she felt so much despair, knowing she was destined to be alone. Spruce was gone for certain. Clearly Milori couldn't even stand her, so there was no hope of even seducing him to at least have a baby to keep her hopes alive. He might even already be mated.

Thomas fell back beside her, being one of the four guards accompanying her to the cabin. "Are you alright, Your Highness?" he asked quietly, taking in her slightly puffy eyes and solemn demeanor.

She nodded, her eyes on the ground.

"Your wings...they are gray," he said in concern and looked behind her. "I think we should go to the hospital to make sure you're alright. Never have I seen them gray."

"I'm fine," she replied quietly, not even caring if something was wrong with her, and pulled her cape around her closer. She had brought it absently out of habit when going to the cabin.

"After this we go to the hospital then," he ordered.

Glancing at him, she waited for him to revoke ordering about the Queen.

"Don't look at me like that, Your Highness. It is my place as your captain to watch out for your wellbeing." Then he added quietly, "And as your friend to watch out for your emotional wellbeing. I shouldn't have broken the news that bluntly. Being a male, I'm not good at delicate things. Shall I fetch Mary tonight? She would want to know you're dealing with this."

"No," she answered quietly and returned her eyes to the ground before her. "I just want to be alone tonight."

"I'm on night shift tonight. I'll be right outside your door if you want to talk," he offered.

She gave a sad smile. "Thank you, Thomas." Part of her suspected she'd probably take him up on it near sunrise, after she was done crying her eyes out for the night.

The guards searched the cabin before letting her enter. They wanted her to wait inside where she wasn't a target for the fairy who was after her.

Clarion wandered the living room aimlessly, thankful it was void of any signs that she had been preparing to start a life with Milori here.

The door opened and she turned, pulling on her mask as she prepared to face one of the most difficult hours of her life. She stood tall and folded her hands before her, the perfect image of an invincible queen...who was secretly shattered inside.

Sleet entered first and walked into the room with a disinterested bow, as usual. Then a tall, elegantly thin winter female floated into the room. Her hair was a perfect white like Milori's, piled in a bun at the back of her head, and her eyes were a pale crystal blue filled with intelligence. Her full-length white dress had sparkling snowflake prints and it fit her perfectly. Beautiful, large white wings stood tall and majestically behind her. And Clarion had never felt uglier than she did standing in the same room with this fairy.

Milori walked in, his golden eyes landing on Clarion for an instant.

The beautiful fairy whispered something to him on their way over to her, and he smiled at the female and nodded. Then he set a hand lightly on her back to guide her over to Clarion.

Clarion suddenly felt a spear penetrate straight through her chest. He used to smile at her like that. He used to touch her gently like that.

Milori stood beside the female, who was between the two males, and bowed. The female gave a graceful curtsy.

Clarion gave a nod in acknowledgment. This wouldn't be so hard, she thought to herself. She just had to pretend the gorgeous female before her was hideous, Sleet wasn't cocky and Milori wasn't a lover who had left her for a beautiful creature. She stood tall, trying incredibly hard to shut away her heart. At least this female wasn't a queen she had to bow to, she told herself in a desperate attempt at self comfort.

"May I introduce the new Minister of Winter, Snowflake, Your Highness?" Milori stated.

Snowflake curtsied again. "Your Majesty."

Clarion nodded to her, not interested but refusing to not be diplomatic. She didn't even want to ask the question if this was Milori's mate, but from his behavior she suspected it was. "I presume you're aware we suspect there's an Alamur," Clarion said, directing her conversation to Milori and refusing to let him think she was flustered.

He held her eyes but no expression was evident on his face. "Yes, Your Highness. I have my army searching. We started to close in on his trail but lost him."

Her eyebrows went up. "Lost him? Losing a malicious threat, especially somewhere in this kingdom, is not acceptable, General," she said firmly. "I don't care how you do it, but I want him found. Today."

"Yes, Your Majesty," he said quietly, clearly biting his tongue.

Snowflake glanced at Milori, obviously not sure what to think of Clarion's reaction.

"Debrief with Thomas and unite the armies until further notice," she commanded.

He gave a nod of acknowledgment.

"And next time I summon for an emergency, you will not send a note telling me it will be delayed. Are we clear, General?" she finished, her voice ice cold.

He looked angry. "Crystal clear, Your Highness," he practically growled.

Then she swept out of the room.

Thomas stayed behind but quietly instructed his second in command to take her home and summon a healer from the hospital to examine her wings.

"I see nothing wrong, my queen," the female healer said later in Clarion's chambers and closed her bag. "Take two sunflower seeds, and call me if you start feeling ill or anything."

"Thank you," she said without interest and returned to her seat at the window after the healer left. And she indulged in hearty tears.

A bit later, she was exhausted from weeping so much that day when there was a knock on the door.

"My queen, may I come in?" Thomas called.

"Yes," she answered and dried her eyes. She was too upset to care that there was evidence of weeping in her puffy eyes and tearstained face.

Thomas entered and closed the door slightly. He crossed and looked sad when he saw her upset. "Do you want to talk?"

She sniffled and shook her head, glancing at the letter in his hand.

"One of the cooks found this on the step." He handed her a letter. "I looked at it be to certain it wasn't a threat. My apologies."

"No, that's fine." She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue where she remained in the window seat. Then she took it.

Meet me at cabin. 9 pm.

Lord Milori

She couldn't help her display of temper-she crumpled up the letter and threw it across the room. Not only was he demanding she return to their cabin, which was a complete joke of a building now that she was seriously contemplating tearing down, but he was now using his formal name and not even addressing her.

Thomas, like a true guard, had no reaction. "May I speak?"

She simply looked at him, clearly not in a good mood.

"I say you don't go. If it's important, he can come to you."

"No, I will go this one time. I have a few words for him," she snarled. Then she suddenly burst into tears, not knowing if she was angry or hurt.

A heavy arm went around her shoulders as he sat beside her so she could cry on something that cared she was in pain.

Thomas and four guards went with her because Thomas was nervous about her being out after dark with a lunatic on the loose.

He had the cabin searched again and lit a lantern for her in the living room. Then he sent the guards outside to stand watch while he stayed inside, double checking all of the rooms again while they waited.

She picked up her lantern and wandered into the bedchamber, wanting to see it one last time. Tomorrow she would have the fairies tear down the cabin. It was only a painful reminder of what would never be.

Thomas tripped in the next room and landed with a heavy thud.

"Thomas, are you alright?" she called from where she stood beside her dresser.

There was no response.

She glanced out the window, not seeing the other guards who were probably hiding in the trees. She took a step and heard a footstep and a grunt. "Thomas, do you need a healer? Did you hit your head?" she asked in concern. She started for the door but stopped dead in her tracks and felt her heart stop.

Bernard stood in the doorway of the bedchamber, in black clothes with a sword and knife on his belt. "I see you got my message. Nine o'clock. You're right on time," he purred with a smile snaking up his lips.


	20. Chapter 20

"What have you done with the guards?" Clarion demanded, standing tall and calm even though her heart was racing.

He shrugged lazily and leaned against the doorframe. "Let's just say they'll have headaches if they wake up tomorrow," he smirked, his beady eyes perusing up her body.

She noticed he said 'if' they woke up. But right now she needed to concentrate on the matter at hand if she was to save herself and Pixie Hollow.

Unexpectedly, he flung his hand out and shot black dust at her.

A cry of pain ripped out of her throat as the black dust particles pierced through her skin into her chest and destroyed some of her extra dust that stored around her lungs. She fell to her hands and knees from the shock to her body of losing so much dust so instantly. Her chest heaved, trying to drag in air as her lungs fought to not collapse. A moment later, the tightness was gone as the black dust killed the golden dust and dissipated in her chest. She touched her chest and looked down at the sugar speckles covering her hand where the black dust had gone into her. Her hands shook from the sudden drop in the level of golden dust in her body that hadn't been prepared to lose it. All of her backup supply was destroyed and all that was left was her own dust. She could not survive more than a couple more attacks like that. She glared up at Bernard as he sauntered into the room, knowing she was about to learn what Milori had endured.

He knelt on one knee and lifted her chin with a forefinger. Cold eyes searched her face. "Where is the Lord of Winter?"

"The death of me alone will give you reign over Pixie Hollow," she snarled. He had taken too much dust for her to be able to fight with her talents. It was now a match of wits and brute strength.

He cocked his head curiously like a snake waiting to strike. "But he will rise against me." Bernard suddenly slapped chains on her wrists when she was still to weak to stand and dragged her up by her hair. He punched her face, making her dizzy. Sugar dripped from her nose and split lower lip. He took the chance to loop one chain around the thick bedpost and tie the other around a ceiling support beam in the blink of an eye, making her arms spread painfully wide apart and completely immobile.

It wasn't how she had expected her life to end, but she was strangely calm. She knew that Milori wouldn't let Bernard get ahold of the kingdoms after she faded at Bernard's hands. Not having anyone or anything to live for made her fearless.

He grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head back. His other fist slammed into her stomach, causing explosive pain that would have made her double over if he hadn't been holding her hair.

She gasped and blinked hard, struggling to not cry out in pain.

He snapped her head back, banging the back of it against the wall so hard that she lost her vision for a moment. She let her chin drop to her chest, trying to regain her bearings.

"I will enjoy this," he breathed in her ear. Then he leaned his head down and slowly licked the sugar from the corner of her lip, with sick pleasure.

She flung her head, smashing his nose, and used the chains as leverage to leap up and kick him in the chest. He went sailing backwards into the wall with a thud. Then she jerked her hand against the chain, the shackle cutting into her wrist, so she could shoot dust at his heart to kill him instantly. Her aim was perfect. And so was his.

He flung his hand out and shot black dust, sending hers and his into her chest.

A scream cut through the air as the golden dust around her heart could be felt bubbling and fading from the black dust. She grabbed the chains with her fingers and held on, gritting her teeth against the slowing beats of her heart as she willed dust from her other tissues to move into her heart to keep her alive. Her hair hung messy and half loose in her face with her head bowed. She struggled to remain conscious.

Bernard slowly got to his feet, an evil laugh rising out of his chest. "You won't win this. You see, while your fairies were at war with the Alamur, I was slaying the queen of another land. My talents are far superior than what they once were, my queen," he mocked. "We wait for Milori. I kill him and you, and Pixie Hollow is for the taking and I get your powers," he breathed, his voice sending chills up her spine.

She slowly raised her head, with sweat and sugar on her face. Scraggly strands of hair caked with sugar hung in her face. Glaring at him from beneath her brow, with fatal darkness in her eyes, she hissed, "He lied. He isn't my mate, and he won't come for me. No one but guards will come for me." For the first time in her life, the lack of a mate was a blessing.

A sick smile twisted up his lips and he came forward. "I will send a message he can't ignore." He raised his knife.

Her screams echoed throughout the mountains. Birds flew into the sky, and animals ran in fear. Dark clouds rolled in over Pixie Hollow and winds whipped through the trees. Terrified fairies hid in their homes. Guards looked at each other in fearful confusion. And butterflies shot up out of the grasses in a panic and fluttered frantically before one by one they fell to the ground dead as the Queen's screams rang on and on.


	21. Chapter 21

She hung by her wrists, too weak for her legs to support her, and her hair was stringy and caked with dried sugar. Her dress was soaked in sugar and clung to her small frame, torn in places where Bernard had slowly run the knife over her skin. Once large and magnificent wings were now gray and limp, wet with sugar. Every part of her body throbbed with pain, but she refused to give in. She would fall. And she would fall with grace and dignity. She knew she only had minutes left until all of her sugar was gone and only trickles of were dust left in her tissues.

Bernard raised her chin with the tip of his knife and his eyes bore into her. "Scream his name!" he roared in frustrated rage.

She held his eyes with distain. "My last breath will not whisper his name," she hissed, her voice hoarse from so much screaming. It wasn't until this moment that she understood how Milori had endured unspeakable tortures to save her. And it wasn't until this moment that she knew how much she still loved him.

Bernard raised the knife.

"Your screams will ring throughout Hell," a deep voice, trembling with rage, snarled behind Bernard.

Bernard spun around, dropping Clarion's head.

Clarion barely had the strength to raise her chin from her chest and look up. She could feel her heart stumbling as its pumping grew weaker.

Milori stood tall and fierce in the bedchamber doorway wearing his armor and holding a sword drawn. And he was glowing a soft red with anger, his eyes alone ready to kill with one look. He glanced at Clarion, one sweep over her telling him she was dying fast.

"You're surrounded," Milori snarled. "Let the Queen free, and it will be just you and me." His body was coiled, muscles bulging in preparation to leap at any moment to kill Bernard.

Before she could blink, Milori swung his sword with the intent of parting Bernard's head from his shoulders.

Bernard shot black dust at Milori, who blocked it with his sword and flung his other hand out to shoot ice at Bernard.

Bernard dropped and rolled to dodge the freeze. He jumped to his feet, barely missing another blast from Milori, and then dodged behind Clarion to hold a knife to her belly.

Milori didn't move.

"Drop your sword. Now!" Bernard shouted.

Milori's grip loosened on his sword, but Clarion held his eyes. She knew that she was Milori's weakness that would result in his death. There was no hope left for her, so she did what a queen's purpose was: she sacrificed for her kingdom. Looking into Milori's eyes, she whispered, "I love you." Then she turned her head and hissed to Bernard. "Go to Hell."

As Clarion expected, Bernard snapped and plunged the long knife into her belly, taking away his only shield against Milori.

She was too weak to scream, but the pain was terrible as she felt her organs tear apart.

Milori screamed and a war cry ripped out of him as he surged forward.

She distantly heard war cries outside and knew there were more Alamur in battle with the Pixie Hollow soldiers.

It took only seconds, but Pixie Hollow soldiers came swarming in through windows and doors. But Bernard already lay on the floor with a sword in his chest and eyes staring lifelessly.

Milori fell to his knees and gathered Clarion in his arms, her body covered in her sugar. Her beautiful eyes were closed and her faint glow gave a flicker. Tears ran down his face and gut-wrenching sobs started pouring out of his heart. Stroking her hair, he slowly buried his face against her neck and rocked her.

The soldiers all stopped in their tracks. They slowly knelt on one knee, the gesture flowing out of the cabin through the field of soldiers surrounding the cabin until every soldier was kneeling, with his head bowed and silent tears in his eyes.

The Lord of Winter's sobs could be heard throughout the lands.

The Queen of Pixie Hollow no longer glowed.


	22. Chapter 22

Milori slowly got to his feet, cradling Clarion's body in his arms as tears streamed down his face.

Everyone knew that a queen had to be buried in the tree immediately or the tree's bond with her would be severed and it would die, thereby killing all fairies with it.

The soldiers parted for him like the sea as he walked out of the cabin as if in a dream. He refused to give her to anyone while he climbed up on Blizzard, so he walked to take her back to the tree.

Rain fell from the sky, mingling with Milori's tears as it soaked him and the soldiers but washed Clarion clean from the sugar. A long line followed him as fairies came out of their homes in tears and joined in the sorrowful procession.

Milori finally gave in and climbed up on Blizzard to go up into the tree. He held her body close as they flew up, and then he slid down carefully without letting her go.

The scene was one that brought even Sleet to tears. The Lord of Winter sank to his knees and wept, not wanting to let her go. "I can't," he sobbed and rocked her. "I can't let you go. I love you. I've always loved you. You're so brave and gentle and pure. You never knew how much you guided us with your wisdom, how much all loved you. Your joy made the forest dance, your laughter created stars. But your love, sweetheart, your love gave me wings," he whispered and kissed her brow. A tear fell to glisten on her cheek. "A true heroine doesn't realize she is one," he whispered, repeating the words she had once told him. "You rescued me, Clarion. Not just today but the day I found you wandering in winter when I knew I would always love you. Our love will never die, my angel." He softly brushed a kiss over her lips and laid her down in the center of the tree, weeping harder because he knew the tree would take her down into it's heart where she would reunite with it. He held her hand, terrified to let go and lose her.

The tree trembled and started to glow as its dust surfaced, sensing the queen. It began to creep up her body and the bark began to crack under her as it prepared to take her inside.

Milori clung to her hand, scared and physically aching as his heart died. His heart swelled, unable to contain his love. He started to glitter slightly, but his attention was focused solely on her.

His entire body began to glow brightly, making the sun look dull in comparison, and the shimmering moved down his body to her hand and began to spread over her. He stared, startled what was happening to her. He felt a surge of warmth shoot up his arm and he was thrown back a bit from the force of it. Raising his hand that felt like it was burning, he saw it a soft pink like Clarion's skin and glowing a pure gold. Then he saw Clarion's body slowly sink through the bark into the tree.

Milori scrambled up, stumbling with his bad leg and poor balance from his wing. "No!" he screamed, not ready to let her go. "No!" Panic seized his heart as she disappeared and the bark sealed back up. He fell where she had been, and he clawed and shot dust and ice at the bark like a madman trying to get it open again. "No! Help me! Help me!" he screamed, ignoring his nails breaking and the streaks of his sugar forming on the bark. His hands shook uncontrollably.

The fairies all stood silently weeping with grief for their queen and for their lord going mad without her.

Spruce slowly stepped forward and knelt to lay a hand on Milori's shoulder. He softly hiccuped with tears on his face, "You have the Queen's talents. Bernard killed her but you destroyed him...You're the King of Pixie Hollow."

Milori shook his head frantically. "I can bring her back," he wept and shot more dust into the bark, willing to destroy the tree to get her back.

Dewey stepped forward and stilled Milori's arm. "Not even she could bring fairies back from the dead," he sniffled.

Milori sank forward on his hands, his face millimeters from the tree where she had disappeared. His mouth opened as he sobbed, but the despair came from so deep within his heart that he made no sound.

Spruce set a hand on his back, afraid that Milori had stopped breathing because he was weeping so hard.

Milori gasped in a breath, his tears soaking the bark under him. "Noooooooo!" he screamed so hard his body shook. His body trembled with sobs, and he leaned his forehead down on the tree with his knees curled up under him. "No," he whimpered and his hands stroked the spot by his head where she had been taken back into the tree. "Clarion," he sobbed.


	23. Chapter 23

Milori felt the madness seeping into his mind as he sat in the tree and stared into oblivion.

The fairies had all left hours ago, and he was left only with the guards standing watch being he was now the ruler of all of Pixie Hollow. Spruce sat back on a branch, depressed and grieving himself, but he stayed to keep watch that the King didn't go into shock. Milori was only slightly aware of Spruce when he would come over every few minutes throughout the night to examine Milori. Everyone else had left after Spruce had sent them away, worried about word of the King's madness reaching any Alamur who were left. Pixie Hollow was naked and ripe for the taking by any enemy, without a sane ruler or a general to lead it in battle.

In the deep recesses of Milori's mind, he knew the blankness and the numbness were mild shock from Clarion's death, and as soon as he would awaken from it there would be pain that would make him writhe and scream with insanity. If he was a coward, he would throw himself off this tree and end the pain. But never would he shame Clarion, so he continued breathing in and out and trying to get from one moment in time to the next. He continued stroking the tree where Clarion had sunken into it, as if he was mad.

Spruce stilled Milori's hand that was rubbed raw from stroking the rough bark for hours. "Your Highness?" he said softly, his voice breaking upon saying the words to someone who wasn't Clarion.

Milori's eyes snapped to life and he looked around for Clarion.

"Your Highness," Spruce repeated.

He looked at Spruce and then his heart fell all over again, realizing she wasn't there. His face crumpled and he suddenly felt the pain that had been building in his chest for hours. It far surpass the magnitude of tortures he had endured by the Alamur, and he knew it was just a matter of years before the pain and grief would kill him. But he wished it would happen now. A sob escaped him. And another. And another until he laid on the floor of the tree and his cries of grief echoed through the night.

At daylight he was numb again, and he realized his torture was to be living with the fact that he hadn't gotten to Clarion in time to save her and knowing the pain would come in waves altered with numbness. He had refused to leave Clarion when Spruce had wanted to take him to the hospital to properly cleanse Milori's raw hands that were now leaking sugar steadily onto the tree as he stroked it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spruce drawing up a sedative and instructing guards to carry Milori to the hospital.

Milori looked down at the bark that had been the last thing to touch Clarion. It glowed faintly. His tears spilled over when he realized a drop of her sugar was on the bark and it reacted with his. He slowly stroked it, insanely desperate to touch any part of her. When it faded a moment later, the dust used up and no longer reacting, Milori started weeping. "Please," he whimpered and wiped his wounded hands over the bark in search of another spec of her sugar.

Spruce walked over and knelt down, ignoring Milori's desperate searching. "We need to go to the hospital. You're not quite sane with your grief, and I need to clean the dirt out of your wounds. I'm going to give you something to relax you so you can rest," he said gently.

Milori found another spec and scraped at it with his fingers to break off the bark so he could take it with him to the hospital. It broke off and he cradled it in his hand. Then he felt the tree tremble.

"He's disturbed the tree," Thomas said with fear in his eyes as the trembling grew to shaking.

Milori's eyes landed on the spot where he had torn away the bark to see it glowing where his sugar had touched the raw bark. He shot up to his knees, knowledge suddenly filling his mind, and stared at Spruce in shock.

"Milori? Answer me. Milori?" He snapped his fingers in Milori's face.

He suddenly clutched his head between his hands, his eyes wide.

"Guards, he needs sedation. Now," Spruce demanded and started to wipe Milori's bicep for the injection.

Milori snatched the syringe away and sliced the needle down his own forearm.

"No! Guards! Milori, stop it! You'll hemorrhage!" Spruce cried and grabbed the syringe.

He held his arm over the spot on the tree so his sugar dripped heavily on it.

The guards grabbed him as Spruce filled a clean syringe quickly before Milori could kill himself.

Milori closed his eyes and focused as he had witnessed Clarion do.

The tree shook and loud cracking rumbled as the bark split open.

Down in the hole was a bright golden glow of raw dust that swirled around Clarion's body.

They all froze and stared in shock.

Milori felt his body grow warm as he willed the dust to rise up Clarion's body.

She floated up, still sliced up and injured, and came to rest down on the floor beside Milori.

Slowly reaching out, he wasn't sure he hadn't dreamed it. She felt warm from being in with the dust. For some reason, he wanted to lay his fingers over the stab wound in her belly. The instant their sugars touched, her chest rose. And then stilled.

Spruce stared with huge eyes and then looked at Milori.

Milori and the guards looked just as terrified.

"M,Milori?" Spruce whispered. "What did you do?"

"I don't know. Our sugars touched," he gasped on the verge of mental shock.

Spruce slid a needle into Milori's vein and drew out sugar. Then he carefully injected it into her neck vein.

Her chest rose and she gasped in air. And then went still again.

"Shit," Spruce whispered in horror, his eyes popping out of his head as he and Milori stared at each other. "She doesn't have any sugar, but the raw dust is keeping her alive. For now."


	24. Chapter 24

They raced to the hospital on Blizzard, Milori transfusing into Clarion as Spruce did chest compressions to help her heart that was in ventricular fibrillation and beating uselessly.

Milori was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that she wasn't dead. Yet. He sat with her head in his lap and stroked his leaking fingers over her wounds, trying to give her every little bit of sugar he could.

They arrived at the hospital, and Milori sat on the table with her to stay connected for the transfusion as they raced to the emergency room.

Ignoring all of the bustling around the room, he tried to focus on her and not all the needles and tubes they were sticking into her poor body. "It's alright, sweetheart," he whimpered as his face crumpled when a nurse took over compressing her chest and Spruce tilted her head back and put a tube down her throat. He kept ahold of her hand that was growing colder by the second.

Spruce's hands flew as he connected a bulb to the tube for another nurse to pump air into Clarion's chest. Then he brought in bags of sugar on an intravenous pole. "Milori, heal her wounds. She's going to bleed out again otherwise," he ordered and started an I.V. in her.

Milori didn't give it a second thought as he ripped open her tattered dress to expose her in her undergarments. He jerked off his tunic and quickly took the nurse's place over Clarion to press their skin together.

His skin grew burning hot from the raw dust, but he clenched his teeth and forced himself to stay. He shifted slightly and glanced down to see her healing slowly without much sugar in her. His body grew wet with perspiration from the pain until he couldn't stand it another minute and he rolled off, falling to his knees. His torso and arms were red and slowly faded back to white. "I can't," he panted as Spruce helped him up and they saw her wounds only lightly healed. "It's not working."

Spruce grabbed his hand and laid it on her knife wound. "I need it just enough to seal in the sugar. I will stitch her other wounds. I need you to do this one. And then I need your sugar," he said seriously and looked Milori in the eye. "She isn't responding to anyone else's sugar."

Milori nodded, knowing Spruce meant he had to drain Milori. Milori knew that they were trying to cheat Death, and he was more than willing to take her place. He sat on the edge of the bed, laid both of his hands on the wound and didn't let go even when he heard his skin hissing from the heat. He gasped and sweat ran down his body, and the only thing that kept him from screaming was not wanting to scare Clarion in case she could hear anything happening.

Spruce pulled off Milori's hands after a minute and plunged the sickeningly burned tissue into ice water. Milori panted, waiting for her dust to kick in as his eyes remained focused on the ice over her wound. A moment later, his hands started to heal and the ice on her thawed to reveal a barely scarred wound.

Another table was whipped over, and Milori instantly laid down on it.

Spruce started a line from a large artery in Milori's arm and connected it to her. Then he looked down at Milori, his eyes sad. "She has only what sugar you have given her. I'm going to take you to the edge, but you'll be unconscious before we get there," he said in a thick voice.

Milori shook his head and swallowed hard. "If it doesn't work, give it all to her," he said quietly.

Spruce's eyes teared. "I don't know if it will even save her. If I cross the line with you, only she can bring you back."

Milori nodded.

Spruce blinked hard and his voice was thick. "I can't...I can't tell you how much I love you like I imagine brothers do," he whispered.

Milori gave a soft smile, tears building in his eyes. He held out his hand and Spruce held it tight. "Me too. Take care of her for me."

Spruce nodded with a tear falling down his cheek. "I never even kissed her, you know. She was always yours."

Milori nodded. "I know you didn't." He squeezed Spruce's hand.

Their attention was diverted when she started thrashing. Spruce and the nurses ran over and stilled her, carefully turning her onto her side to see her wings flapping haphazardly without opening. They were turning a soft gold.

"Milori," Spruce smiled and looked up.

Milori was unconscious, with a soft smile on his lips.


	25. Chapter 25

A cry of pain echoed throughout the hospital halls.

Spruce gently set his hands on shoulders to try to offer comfort.

There was another gasp and choked sob.

Clarion's back arched and she writhed, her body in pain and feeling so detached from her mind. She tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn't. She tried to speak but it kept coming out as moans. Hands touched her shoulders and she gave a choked cry, only wanting the pain from Bernard to end. Her entire body went rigid and it trembled from such intense lockup.

"Clarion, it's Spruce. You're safe. You died and your body is trying to start up again. It's alright," he said soothingly.

Her muscles relaxed and the her back arched and her wings started slapping against the table, forcing her onto her side.

"Grab her wings before they break," Spruce ordered.

Her hands started fisting and her feet jerkily flexing.

"It's alright. Can you look at me?" he asked calmly.

She slowly forced her eyes open, an involuntary moan escaping her throat.

"Stop the transfusion," he ordered, keeping his hands on Clarion as she continued to twitch and thrash. He looked down at her with a tender smile and tears in his eyes. "Hi there. Your brain, I think, is trying to reconnect with your body and you're sort of having semi-seizures. They're not true seizures, so I'm going to give it a minute to see if it passes before giving you meds for it."

Her body locked up tight again and a strange noise escaped from her throat that scared her.

"It's alright," he promised and glanced behind her at something with a nod.

Then her body was still. He listened to her heart with a stethoscope and then looked at the cardiac monitor readout from the bee. He listened to the snake's reading of her blood pressure. "Better?" he asked her.

She slowly nodded, confused what was happening.

"Squeeze my hands."

She did.

"Do you feel odd at all? Dizzy?"

"No," she croaked, her voice hoarse.

"Good because someone really needs your attention." He gently helped her roll onto her other side.

She startled when she saw Milori on a table beside her getting a double transfusion and unconscious.

"We had to give almost all of his sugar to you." He walked around to him and listened to his heart, which was skipping beats and beating rapidly, according to the beetle's chirping. "I was really counting on it that you could help," he said and drew up a syringe and injected it into Milori's line.

She instantly dragged herself across the table, her body still weak and uncoordinated. The second she touched him, she felt her talents burst into her body and suddenly felt stronger. She sat upright. Rubbing his chest to bring up his dust, she laid her hand over his heart and closed her eyes. The chirping grew steady and slower.

"Take sugar from my heart," she ordered.

Spruce blinked."What?" he asked as if she was crazy.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. "A queen regenerates her own sugar around her heart, unlike other fairies, yes?"

"Yes," he frowned.

"Inject my raw sugar into him, and it will cause his to proliferate."

He grabbed a long-needled syringe and she laid down. After cleaning her chest quickly, he looked down at her and hesitated. "This is dangerous. Are you certain this is what he needs?"

She nodded and braced herself, terrified of having a needle plunged into her heart.

"I'm not going to take it directly from your heart. There are too many risks, and you're still fragile." He slowly started inserting it, and she turned her head to focus on Milori and tried to not think about the thing she felt piercing into her chest.

"Take at least five cc's," she said breathlessly.

"Clarion, that much from your heart when you're so weak is too hard on you."

"He is large enough that he needs at least that to do anything," she protested, trying to keep her breathing slow and steady.

Her eyes started to drift shut.

She woke up to chirping and hissing. Opening her eyes, she saw Milori sitting on the edge of a chair beside the bed looking like he hadn't slept much in days and a shadow of a white beard on his face.

He released a half sob and kissed her hand that he had been holding in his. Then he stood and leaned over to kiss her brow. "I didn't think I'd see you again," he croaked.

Spruce walked into the hospital room with a smile. "I heard the chirping pick up and thought she'd be awake." He lightly felt her pulse and then looked at her cardiac reading. "Do you feel dizzy, weak, nauseous? Do you need some pain meds?"

She looked at Milori, who looked like a wild madman and was quietly weeping, and then at Spruce, who was hovering incessantly. "Where are we?"

They both smiled with relief.

"The hospital," Spruce said. "You've been unconscious for two days. Do you remember the transfusion?"

She looked at Milori. "Yes. Why aren't you in the hospital?" she frowned.

He smiled. "Your sugar healed me almost instantly."

"Go wash up," Spruce ordered him. "He has refused to leave your side for the past days," he commented to Clarion. "Go on. You'll frighten her with your mountain man look," he urged Milori.

Milori looked slightly embarrassed. "I'll be back in a few minutes. I was just afraid to leave you," he explained.

Spruce explained what had happened after Milori had arrived at the cabin. "I want to keep you here for another couple days just to run more sugarwork and make sure you're alright. You also have some deep cuts, which we stitched, but I want to make sure they don't get infected."

She was propped up with pillows and had just finished brushing her hair, after a nurse had helped her take a sponge bath, when Milori returned with a bouquet of red roses in a vase.

He smiled when he saw her, looking more like himself, and set the roses on the nightstand beside the bed before he took his seat in the chair again. He took her hand that was lying on the bed.

Clarion pulled it away and saw his face fall. She kept her eyes focused down on her lap. "Thank you for everything you did. It was more than you needed to. But I think you should go now, and please take the roses."

He stared at her, his heart breaking. "Clarion," he protested.

She shook her head, refusing to let her tears fall. "Please don't. We're done and dead," she said, her throat constricting.

"Like hell we are," he growled and stood so fast and leaned his hands on the bed to kiss her that she didn't have time to react.

She pulled back with wide eyes.

He slowly sat on the edge of the bed, realizing he had startled her.

"Don't," she snapped. "Don't you dare come in here and try to get me to fall all over you." Her eyes glittered angrily. "Go back to your white princess. Spruce will get angry that you brought flowers," she barked.

A smile slowly drew up his lips and his eyes twinkled. "Spruce said he found his mate days ago." He leaned forward on his hands, setting them on each side of her hips so he could meet her eyes squarely. "Jealous, Clarion?"

"Shove it," she snapped. And then she tried hard not to blush when she realized what she said.

He chuckled. "You honestly believe you could be replaced?" He stroked her cheek.

She pushed his hand away, angry that he was poking fun at her.

"There's that fiery little minx I met in the woods so long ago," he whispered, his eyes tender. "Would it do you any good to know she's my minister?"

"I know that," she barked, growing angrier by the second that he was grinning like a fool. "I know that she whispers to you and you walk with your hand on her back."

He tried to stop smiling but couldn't help it. "Because she was so intimidated by you that I thought she was going to bolt. She's nervous because she says you're beautiful and intelligent and have more spine than she ever could."

Clarion blinked.

A smile split his lips. "She's my apprentice, Clarion."

"What?"

"I'm not going to be spending as much time as a lord. I'm going to be busy making babies with my mate," he said huskily and stroked her cheek. "I saw Bernard fly past during the avalanche. That's what scared me, Clarion. I thought all of the Alamur were dead, save for Sleet. I had to tell you a story that you would believe, make you think I was leaving because I needed you to be sad and act the part convincingly. He didn't know that I was alive. The longer we kept it that way, the better I could track him without him turning around and seeing me. You caught Sleet in the tree a few days ago, and he mentioned that you had been seeing a glow following you. We knew it was Bernard, who kept slipping out of our grasp at the last second. He probably learned that I was alive when I came to the hospital when you had the herniated disc. He was probably watching you then, and that's when he started to make his move."

"What?!" she nearly screeched, startling him. "You knew an Alamur was here and didn't tell me or Thomas?! Wha, who...what is wrong with you?!" She pushed on his chest.

He looked surprised. "Clarion, it was important he didn't suspect we knew," he protested.

Tears filled her eyes. "And you set me up as the bait," she sniffled.

"No." He shook his head vehemently, his eyes panicking.

"You did," she wept. "I wouldn't have gone to the cabin, at least with so few guards, if I had known. You saved me so you wouldn't have to live with the guilt of it being your fault," she hiccuped.

His eyes widened in horror. "I saved you because I love you! I had my soldiers watching you to make sure you didn't get hurt," he pleaded. "They were captured in a surprise attack, and I didn't get word of it until fifteen minutes later. I came as soon as I knew you might be in danger!" he cried, begging her to believe him.

Tears ran down her face. "And what good did it do?" she whispered. "We lost soldiers. Good soldiers. And I endured for you more than I physically could stand. I offered up my life," she hiccuped. "To a male who relished in my screams. For a male who used me in his game. I was literally the queen in your game of chess," she sniffled, her heart breaking. "Soldiers and I paid the price for your victory," she whispered. "You broke my heart when I thought you had run away. But never did it once cross my mind that you would use me," she wept.

"No, Clarion, it's not like that," he begged and grabbed her hand.

"Get out," she sobbed.

"Just listen."

"Get out!" she shouted.

A nurse came running in when Clarion's heart started to skip beats. "My lord, you need to go. She can't tolerate stress right now."

He let the nurse back him out of the room, tears on his face as he watched Clarion sob into her hands.


	26. Chapter 26

Milori paced in the hall nervously when Spruce ran into Clarion's hospital room. He could hear her heart beating erratically through the closed door. It was slow and steady a moment later.

Spruce came out after a few long, agonizing minutes. "What happened?" he asked in concern.

He ran a hand over his hair. "I opened my big mouth and things came out wrong. I didn't mean to make her upset."

Spruce took a deep breath to remain calm and led Milori into an empty room. He turned and half growled, "Her body is incredibly fragile right now. She cannot handle being 'upset.' I had to sedate her so she didn't go into cardiac arrest." He stepped closer, his hand fisted before him to emphasize his point. "I don't know what's going on with you, but if you are serious about keeping her, you had better get your crap together. You're completely different since the war, which I understand messes with your head, but you have got to figure out how to deal with it and stop hurting her."

Milori clenched his jaw. "Don't. I'm well aware that I am messed up, and I'm doing my best. I tried time away from her and it made it worse. I only feel calm and like I'm not going completely crazy when I'm with her." He started pacing.

"So this is her problem to deal with your insensitivity?" Spruce retorted.

"No," he snapped. Then he ran his hands through his hair in agitation. "I'm just saying...I don't know," he grumbled.

Spruce watched him closely. "How much do you sleep at night?"

Milori gave him an irritated look as he paced.

"No, I'm serious."

"I don't know, maybe four hours." He kept pacing, growing more agitated, and opened the window to get some air.

"How many nightmares do you have a night?"

Milori leaned his hands on the windowsill and breathed deeply to calm himself. "I didn't say I wake up," he growled. "We're discussing Clarion."

"We're discussing you upsetting Clarion. I think it stems from the war."

"What?" he snapped and turned around.

"Milori, I think your mood swings and outbursts are post-traumatic stress disorder."

Clarion woke up to a nurse checking her heartbeat. "Hello, Your Highness," she smiled. "Are you feeling better?"

She blinked and the room stopped spinning. "A bit dizzy."

"That's just the sedative Healer Spruce gave to calm your heart. He said to fetch him when you woke up. You've been asleep for almost a couple hours. Do you want water or anything?"

"No," she said softly, her head pounding. She closed her eyes.

The nurse left and Spruce entered a minute later to see her holding her head with her eyes still closed.

"A bad side effect of sedation," he apologized. "I'm reluctant to give you more drugs when your body is still struggling to catch up. Let's try compresses." He set a cold rag on her forehead and then gently took each hand, one at a time, and lightly pressed between her thumb and forefinger.

The throbbing subsided to a dull ache. She opened her eyes.

He smiled. "It pays to be a bookworm. Read about that trick a couple years ago."

"Thank you," she said softly.

He set her hand down on the bed and then helped her prop up a bit with pillows. "It'll keep the headache from returning," he explained. Then he listened to her heart.

"Spruce?"

He looked at her as he removed his stethoscope.

"Isn't this kind of awkward?" she asked, hoping he wouldn't take offense.

He studied her. "Is it awkward for you?"

"I asked you first."

A chuckle escaped him. "You're good at being stubborn. No, I don't find it awkward. I see it as caring for a friend. Do you want a different healer?"

"Well...not really. I don't get as nervous with you. But I didn't know if..." She turned red trying to think of how to say it.

He set his hand over hers on the bed. "Clarion, I'm not embarrassed by anything we did because we didn't do anything to be embarrassed about. Lilly knows the situation and understands, and I told Milori about it and he understands. I'm not afraid to admit that you hold a very soft spot in my heart, but I understand if this is awkward for you. Above all else I value our friendship and don't want to ruin that," he said gently.

She smiled, touched by his words. "You're more eloquent than I am." Then her face fell as she tried not to cry. "I could really use a friend," she croaked and started weeping.

"I'm right here," he said soothingly and sat on the edge of the bed as he took her hand. "Clarion, you have to stay calm. I talked to Milori, and I think I figured out what's going on with his moods," he rushed out, trying to calm her down fast.

"Huh?" she sniffled and looked up at him.

He pulled out a leafkerchief that he seemed to always have on him lately and dried her tears. "I need you to stay calm because your heart isn't strong enough yet to handle stress. What I'm going to tell you should come as a relief." He glanced at the bee's cardiac reading to see her heart steadying and heard the beetle's soft chirping slowing. "That's a girl. Better?"

She nodded and brushed at her eyes.

"I just spent the last couple hours talking with Milori. He asked that I discuss his condition with you because he's worried his presence will upset you."

"Where is he?"

"In the hall. He hasn't left yet because he's afraid of you having problems."

She sighed but knew it was for the best to hear it from Spruce right now.

"Clarion, I haven't come across this, but I've read about it occurring in human soldiers. We're not that different from them, so I think this is what's happening to Milori. Sometimes when someone goes through something very traumatic, like war, his mind doesn't know what do with those emotions and images he saw. So it can manifest through things like not sleeping, mood swings, clinging or pushing away loved ones, being in constant fear of danger...so many things. I think Milori has post-traumatic stress disorder, PTSD."

"Oh Neverland," she whispered. "I've heard a little about it, but it never occurred to me that's what's happening," she said with wide eyes, feeling so guilty for being hard on him.

"He said he only sleeps four hours a night and is interrupted several times with nightmares of the war. He mentioned that one night when he returned you were caring for him and he nearly strangled you?"

His eyes were calm and understanding, but she felt ashamed as if betraying Milori when she nodded.

"From what he's telling me, he doesn't quite remember the past week too well. I believe he's having short blackouts from the stress of having an Alamur back and that Alamur being after you. He also can't tell me much about what happened during the hours that you were dead. I watched him during that time, and he didn't seem at all like himself. I chalked it up to grief, but I realize now that some of it was the PTSD altering his behavior. When you met him at the cabin with Sleet, did he seem like himself?"

She thought back to the events. "He did. I was surprised too when he looked upset about something I said but he didn't say anything in front of the others, which is like him to not be disrespectful to me."

"He can relay details of that interlude. None of the other soldiers have PTSD, but I think it's because Milori protected them from so much violence. I have a few soldiers who have nightmares, but nothing to the extreme of what Milori experiences. His dreams are incredibly vivid and he relives the tortures to the most minute detail. Dreams aren't supposed to be that explicit, and it tells me that he is having more trouble dealing with things than he lets on. This is uncharted territory for our medicine because fairies don't really have psychological issues being we normally don't have violence in our lives. He has agreed to talk with a friend of mine, Healer Rufus, who has read hundreds of books on human psychology. I think Rufus is the best one to help Milori. It is believed that talking through it and other verbal therapy helps the victim to learn how to deal with it. Milori has agreed to start tomorrow. If it doesn't work in a month or so, we can add in drugs, but that gets very tricky altering the brain's chemicals. Anyways, Milori said he wants to be here while you're in the hospital and will be in the hall should you need anything immediately. He's terrified of upsetting you, so he chose to not even try coming in. The nurses and I will be around too." He stood.

"I make it worse for him, don't I?" she asked sadly.

He gave a sad smile. "He says you're his sanctuary," he said softly, clearly touched by the words but trying not to show it. Then he headed for the door.

Her heart broke. "Spruce?"

He stopped and turned.

"Is Lilly better?"

He smiled. "She is. She's quite something. Thank you for helping me save her."

The glow in his eyes melted her heart. "Spruce?" she said softly and met his eyes. "Thank you."

A smile touched his lips and he gave a half bow.

She sat in bed and thought about what Milori had said about him training an apprentice. Obviously he truly hadn't been running away, but it still didn't excuse the fact about what he did with her and Bernard. "Milori?" she called after thinking about things for awhile.

He stepped in looking in worse shape than earlier, if possible.

She couldn't keep the smile out of her voice. "For fairies' sakes, go home and get some rest."

His face fell.

She realized that he thought she was sending him away for good. "No, go home and sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

He gave a slow nod, his eyes drifting to the window to see it only early afternoon. Then he started walking out.

"Have you become a mouse?" she asked, trying to coax him out of his solemn state.

He turned to her, still beyond the foot of her bed, and met her eyes. "I'm scared that at any minute you won't be here," he said quietly. "I know I've done little but hurt you since the war, and I don't want to cause any more harm."

She frowned. "Are you thinking something that will upset me?"

He gave a bitter smile and seemed to think twice about his words. "I think it's best for you if I go. I think I'm provoking right now when it's not my intent. I'll stop by in a bit and check in with the nurse that you're alright." He gave a slight bow and started to leave.

"I want to say that I wish you would go cool down in winter and then come back," she admitted. She held his eyes when he turned to look at her in surprise. He looked ancient as if the past week had added centuries to his life, not days. "I hate being at odds with you. I wish you wanted to fight for me," she said softly, no longer wanting to hide her pain from him.

His brow furrowed sadly and his eyes filled with longing. "I want nothing more, Clarion," he answered. "But I'm sure that Spruce told you I have problems. The kind of burdens that I don't want to you to have to carry." He stepped closer, gripping the footboard in his hands and wearing his heart in his eyes. "I wish I could go back centuries and never have walked away from you," his final words came out as a whisper as tears gathered in his eyes. "I regret not believing you that you could love me with a broken wing."

A tear dropped from his lashes to the floor, and it broke her heart to see him hurting so deep.

"Because I can see now that even though I have caused you so much grief and am so much more crippled physically and emotionally that you still love me. I wish I had turned around that day and looked at you because I know I wouldn't have been able to leave. But I took the coward's way out instead of trusting you." His lip quivered.

A tear fell down her face.

"I love you the best that I can, which I know isn't what you deserve. I know I've hurt you so much, and I'm so sorry," he croaked so softly it sounded like a whisper. Then he turned to leave.

"Milori?" she sniffled.

He stopped but shook his head. Then he looked at her over his shoulder. "That wasn't said to guilt you," he said with slightly red eyes.

"I know." She pushed herself up to sit a little higher and held out her hand.

He reluctantly came over, and she noticed his limp was worse than it had been a week ago. He took her hand.

"You look beyond exhausted. I think that right now you go cool down and just take a break for a bit. Then come back and we will sleep before we do any more talking."

When he came back, so much of the stress in his face was gone and he was freshened up. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked as soon as he stepped into the room.

She nodded, removing the ice pack from her belly.

He frowned softly and came around to the chair beside the bed. "Does your stomach hurt?"

"A little. Spruce said my liver values aren't quite normal yet, so he's stopped pumping me full of pain meds." She started to lean over slightly to set the ice pack on the small table the nurse had pulled over near the bed, but she stopped and took a deep breath with her eyes closed when sharp pain radiated through her belly.

He took the ice pack for her and set it down. "May I help?" he asked gently.

She looked up at him. His eyes were anxious as if expecting her rejection. "There are a lot of scars," she said quietly.

He cocked an eyebrow good naturedly. "Have you not seen my back?" Then he smiled.

She blushed, realizing she sounded silly, given to whom she was speaking.

"How about I don't look?" he offered. When she hesitated he added softly, "It's not a body that makes a female beautiful." His golden eyes cut right down to her heart.

She blushed and felt like a silly young fairy when the beetle started chirping a little faster, which only embarrassed her more and made her heart beat faster.

He smiled, loving her adorable innocence. "I guess it's good I didn't tell you that the hospital gown and bed don't detract from your beauty," he admitted, his voice low and gentle.

She pursed her lips, trying hard to ignore the rapid chirping. "Don't tease me," she scolded.

His smile faded and he held her eyes. "That is something I would never tease you about, my lady," he said with all seriousness.

He hadn't called her that in what seemed like forever. And he hadn't teased her in that manner since they were very young. She didn't know how to respond and wasn't sure what to think of it when she wanted him to tease her more like he used to.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry. So, how about some healing?" he asked, keeping the mood bright, and went into the washroom to clean his hands before touching her wound.

When he came out, she looked him in the eye. "You haven't teased me like that in a long time," she told him sadly.

He slowly sat in the chair beside the bed, searching her eyes. "I was thinking while I was out that maybe we need to step back a little. I want to start over with you and fix this. I haven't felt like me since before my wing broke, but I have always loved you. I feel like I've had this wall up trying to keep you from getting too close because I'm terrified of you leaving. The hours that you were dead are blurry, but I realized something during that madness." He swallowed hard. "I realized that I don't want to waste more time with you being afraid to love you."

Tears built in her eyes. "You're so open like you used to be," she said in awe.

He actually blushed. "I'm not too manly that way sometimes," he smiled.

She shook her head. "I like it. You're strong but gentle." Her eyes searched his. "Do you know why I ran to Spruce? Because he's so much like how you used to be. I know that war and things have made you tougher, but just sometimes I need to see the underbelly of the dragon," she explained, gazing into his eyes.

"There will be times when I get surly and breathe fire at you," he warned gently.

"And I can handle it if you explain later what happened."

He scooted closer on the edge of his chair to talk.

She adored this openness in him and couldn't stand it any longer. "Pause."

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"Fix my stomach first. It's been forever since the real Milori held me, but I'm too sore to move." She relaxed back against the pillows and pulled up the blankets to her ribs so she could pull up her hospital gown for him to reach her stomach.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I got caught up in talking." He stood and waited for her to get situated. Then he slipped his hand underneath the gown. "Tell me where."

She moved his hand and slowly set it down, biting her lip through the pain.

He was as gentle as he could be, having to rub her belly a little to raise her dust. After he finished with her stomach, he convinced her to at least let him draw the curtains and heal her arms, torso and thighs. Removing the sutures from the now scarred wounds, however, was something she wouldn't let him see.

She scooted over in the bed gingerly, her body still sore and weak. Then she patted the bed.

He blinked.

"Come here right now and hold me."

He smiled and carefully sat down with the pillows propped behind them.

She was instantly in his arms with her head on his shoulder and her arm across his chest. "I don't want to start over," she whispered. "I want to fix us, not erase."

He kissed the top of her head. "We will figure out how to fix us, sweetheart." Then he stroked her hair, sensing her mood change. "What's wrong?"

"Don't leave again."

"Never," he promised, thinking she was talking about walking away.

"I fell asleep when you left and dreamed about him," she said tearfully.

Anguish filled his soul and he blinked back tears as he turned his face up to the ceiling. This was the road he had started down, and it had led him to the mess he was now, only a week or two afterward the war. Now that she was alright for the most part, it started to sink in that she had been tortured. But instead of rage, he felt intense protectiveness swell in his breast and grow. She was too innocent and gentle to know such darkness. "I'll be right here to protect you, sweetheart." He kissed the top of her hair and held her tight, refusing to let the demons torture her too. "I will save you this time," he whispered his vow.


	27. Chapter 27

Author's Note: Readers, in my research I'm finding that you can't prevent PTSD, you can only learn to control it/keep it from getting worse. Milori being able to curb Clarion's PTSD is fictional (although you can have two people go through the same trauma and one not develop PTSD). I'm trying to keep Milori's war PTSD true to form, based on my literature research, but I want to be clear that I have no experience or training in this area. It's a trauma that many of our real soldiers go through after coming home from war but isn't fully recognized/acknowledged by society. This story is only meant to bring awareness to it.  
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Milori woke up for the third time that night. He was crammed in the hospital bed with Clarion, which he didn't mind. He didn't even mind that she had more than half of the bed-she was, after all, the one who was healing. What was driving him crazy, however, was how she kept plastering herself to him in her sleep. He was afraid to roll over for fear of squishing her small frame. But he wasn't going to get out of bed and sleep in the chair because when she had fallen asleep shortly after dinner but before he had climbed in bed, she had woken up screaming from a nightmare about Bernard. At least with him next to her, she was sleeping through the night. He could catch up on sleep later. He carefully rolled over on his other side to face her. Maybe if he lay on his back and she curled up to him...maybe they would both fit.

Carefully sliding her over slowly to the railing on her side of the bed, he slipped out of bed and lowered the railing on his side for more space. He quietly climbed back in and slipped his arm under her slowly. She instantly started rolling toward him, so he laid down quick on his back. She settled her head on his shoulder and threw her arm and leg over him to cuddle up. He wrapped his arm around her with a smile at her sweetness. Then he closed his eyes.

He woke up instantly in the most unpleasant pain a bit later. Gasping in air and trying to not cry out his pain, he pushed her knee away from between his legs. She was almost half on top of him, and he was starting to sweat from her heat. He clutched at his abused person and pulled the blanket back up over her, trying to tuck her in to maybe anchor her onto her side of the bed. Then he laid down, his shoulder hanging over the edge, breathing deeply and hoping she hadn't just fated them to be childless. She was blessedly still and on her side of the bed. He closed his eyes once the pain passed and finally fell into a deep sleep.

Awhile later, he felt a hand on his face and tried to brush it off. Then he started to drift back to sleep. Something brushed his underarm softly, slightly tickling him. He gently brushed it away, dimly aware that Clarion was trying to wrap her hand around his arm. It was back a second later. He rolled onto his side away from her. And crashed onto the floor.

Clarion startled awake when she heard a loud thud and a chair crashing onto its side. The moonlight was soft in the empty room. "Milori?" she asked and sat up, confused where he had gone in the middle of the night.

There was a grunt from the floor on his side of the bed. He slowly got to his knees and then leaned a hand on the bed to push himself to his feet.

"Why were you on the floor?" she asked in sleepy confusion.

"Exercising," he replied and climbed back in bed.

She yawned and scooted over. "You should come to bed and sleep, honey."

"Alright." He laid down on his back again and she curled up to him.

"This is kind of cramped," she said sleepily.

He smothered a laugh.

She rolled onto her side, presenting her back to him. Then she reached over and blindly felt for his shirt to pull him toward her.

He rolled onto his side to spoon her.

She shivered slightly from the prolonged contact with his cool body all night, so he pulled up the blanket between her back and his chest to keep her warm.

She sighed in contentment, half way to slumberland, and pulled his arm over her.

He smiled and lightly frosted his side and the back of his neck so he would be cool enough sleeping so close to her. Then he wrapped his arm around her and held her close.

"I love you," she whispered, her words trailing off as she fell asleep.

"I love you, angel," he whispered. For a long time he listened to her breathing and absorbed the way her body curved against him. "I love you with all my heart," he whispered and softly kissed her hair without awakening her. Then he joined her in sleep.

He woke up at sunrise when a nurse came in quietly. He slowly disengaged from Clarion, a bit embarrassed to be caught so intimate with her, and got up.

"I peeked in a couple times and she seemed alright. Any problems?" she whispered.

He tried to hold back the flush of embarrassment creeping up his face. "No, she did alright. She does have some wounds that we were able to heal. She doesn't want me to see them, but they might be ready for Healer Spruce to remove the sutures," he whispered. "I know he was quite exhausted by last night, and she said she was comfortable enough to wait. I did notice her itching through a bandage on her arm during her sleep, though."

She nodded and connected a fresh I.V. bag that was a soft pink. "He'll be back in a half hour. I'll tell him."

"What is that?" Milori nodded toward the bag, noticing the fluid inside wasn't a light brown like the empty bag of spice she was taking down.

"Rose nectar. Healer Spruce said he wanted her off the spice a half hour before he came so he could run sugarwork to make sure her organs hold up fine without it."

"What is the rose nectar for?"

She smiled at his protectiveness. "It will help flush out the pure spice, which is vital to get her organs functioning again but also hard on her kidneys. This will get all of that out and perhaps help with the headaches. He wants it on an open drip, so she might need the washroom frequently. I'll be by in a bit to check if she's able to get up on her own or not. If she starts feeling weak, let me know immediately."

"Because then what?"

"Then it means her organs can't function on their own yet and she'll need to go back on the spice. Breakfast is being served downstairs in a few minutes, if you'd like anything before she wakes up. I'll bring her some after the sugar results."

He sat down in the chair after the nurse left, too afraid to go back to sleep lest Clarion go into organ failure. He stared at her like a hawk.

A short while later, he heard the beetle chirps change pattern ever so slightly. He got up from his chair and quietly walked around the bed to look at the bee's reading of her heart. He noticed the peak that had been going up on the paper suddenly going down and then up. Spinning on his heel to go get the nurse, he ran into Spruce in the doorway.

"Wow, you're up and feisty," Spruce smiled.

Milori grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the readout. "Her heart started doing something a second ago." He pointed to the paper.

Spruce bent down to read the paper smiled. "I think I should get you some honey nectar." He clapped Milori on the shoulder. "It's alright. Her heart is just firing slightly too soon. Benign early repolarization. It's possible her heart is just trying to adjust to not having the help of the spice. She'll come out of it in a moment."

They both watched the readout, Milori incredibly tense.

Spruce folded his arms over his chest, his eyes on the readout. "You don't look like you slept."

"She had nightmares if I wasn't by her. It took until four o'clock to find a comfortable spot. She seemed to sleep like there's no tomorrow, though," he replied.

"There," Spruce pointed. "See? She's alright."

"What if it does it again?"

Spruce's eyebrows rose. "You really need to calm down," he smiled. "Come here." He walked Milori out to the nurses' desk just a little ways from Clarion's room. He pointed to a table behind the counter where several bees were drawing readouts. "The bees go through intense training and are paired with another bee who can only hear each other's buzzing. The nurses are watching her electrocardiogram live."

"The bees aren't buzzing," Milori frowned.

Spruce led him back to the room. "Not at a pitch we can hear. She's fine. I swear that if anything pops up, I'll tell you."

"I know, I'm nervous because the nurse said she's on rose nectar now."

Spruce nodded and washed his hands. "She's been on the spice for the maximum duration before she'll start getting reverse effects. I'm going to do sugarwork just as a precaution." He got a syringe and then walked over to Clarion with a gauze. "Do you want to wake her up?"

Milori leaned over the bed on the other side and gently rubbed her shoulder. "Sweetheart, wake up. Spruce is here."

She sighed sleepily and her eyes fluttered open. She smiled shyly at being caught asleep and rubbed her eyes.

"Morning. We switched your meds, so I'm going to do some sugarwork to make sure you're tolerating it," Spruce said softly as she woke up.

She pushed herself up to a sit.

"You can lie down," Spruce offered.

She shook her head, running a hand over her tangled curls in hopes of not looking like a complete mess.

Spruce set her hand with the I.V. on the bed and turned it over gently to get to the crook of her arm.

Milori hovered nervously when Spruce took two vials and started with another. "You're going to take all of her sugar," he half accused.

"She has plenty left," he replied calmly.

Her brow furrowed suddenly.

"Are you alright?" Milori asked.

She nodded but seemed tense.

"I'll go run this to the lab and be back with results in a bit," Spruce said and left.

She instantly reached her arms up to Milori. "I'm dizzy but I have to go to the washroom. Right now," she said desperately.

"Is that what was the matter?" he asked, scooping her up and grabbing the I.V. pole to push it to the washroom. He took a step and there was resistance in his arms.

She pulled off the antennas, and the beetle and bee started making racket.

"Clarion! They'll think you're in cardiac arrest!" he exclaimed in shock.

"I don't care! Go!"

He got her in the washroom and stepped out to see nurses and Spruce come charging in. He got several glares and his ear chewed off.

She sat up in bed later that morning after the dizziness had passed and Spruce had declared her organs functioning fine without the spice before he had been called away on an emergency. He noticed that she grew quieter throughout the morning until they fell into silence. She was staring at the chain of a hanging plant near the window of her room.

He sat up in his chair beside the bed. "Clarion?"

She didn't blink, but her brow started to furrow as if she was lost in a daydream.

"Sweetheart," he said louder, reluctant to touch her because he suspected her reaction wouldn't be pleasant.

He stood in her line of vision and stepped to the edge of the bed. "Clarion," he repeated firmly. When she continued to stare through him, he slowly reached out and brushed his fingers ever so lightly over her arm.

She screamed and scrambled backwards on the bed away from him.

"It's just me," he said instantly, keeping his voice calm and taking a step back so she wouldn't feel so scared as she reoriented.

Her chest heaved and the beetled chirped impossibly fast. He glanced at the bee to see him scrambling to keep up with her readout. She looked at him with huge, fearful eyes. "It's Milori, Clarion. No one else is here," he promised.

Her eyes focused and darted around the room as if searching for something. Or someone.

"He's not here," he said softly in a soothingly low voice, not even needing to ask what had scared her.

Turning her eyes to him, she searched his face. Her eyes were dilated and frightened and her breathing shaky.

He slowly took a step toward the bed and held out his hand.

In a heartbeat, she scrambled to him and almost clawed him to her, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she stood on her knees on the edge of the bed. She held handfuls of his tunic crushed in her fist and her other hand buried in his hair at the back of his head. Choked sobs erupted from her, and she pressed her cheek against his.

Wrapping his arms around her, he held her tight and slowly stroked her back, her trembling vibrating to him. "Shhhh, you're safe," he whispered in her ear.

Pressing her face against his neck, her sobs grew until they unleashed free of restraint.

His lip quivered hearing the terror in her cries, and he looked up at the ceiling to find strength within himself to hold strong for her. "I'll protect you," he whispered. "You're safe, sweetheart. It wasn't real."

"Don't let go," she wept, her voice shaking.

He held her tighter. "I won't let go until you tell me to," he promised. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and took her in his lap, cocooning her in his arms. "What happened at the cabin with him?" he asked softly and braced himself.


	28. Chapter 28

She pulled her new long-sleeved dress farther down on her wrists and looked in the mirror at the hospital the next day. Her battered face was healed from Milori, and no one would be able to tell that anything had happened to her. If someone looked close enough, however, it would be noticeable that her eyes looked older and more burdened. She knew that Milori had seen it because he watched her eyes closely often.

Mary had come yesterday to visit, sparing Clarion from having to tell Milori all that Bernard had done to her at the cabin. She knew he would be protective and not care about all the scars she now carried, but she was afraid to show him both the visible and invisible marks. Dear Mary had found a gifted fairy who had made Clarion new dresses without needing measurements, thereby not needing to see Clarion's scars. The dress was a plain, full-length one that had a tight neck collar going just over her collarbone and sleeves that went slightly past her wrists. Every angry pink scar was covered, and the material was just thick enough that Milori wouldn't be able to feel any of the scars. The dress glittered just like her wings, but neither were as bright as they should have been. She hoped everyone would attribute it to her still healing.

Stepping out of the washroom, she looked at Milori, who was waiting to take her home as soon as Spruce arrived to discharge her. Her looked like he was waiting for something else, though, the way his eyes studied her in his gentle way from so many years ago that was starting to become familiar to her again.

He had expected it when Mary had mentioned to him—before she had gone home yesterday—that Clarion had requested new dresses to be made. But actually seeing her so covered up to hide her body made his heart ache. "Clarion," he said sadly and stepped forward to take her delicate hands in his.

She pulled away and walked over to the small suitcase Mary had thought to bring with some toiletries that Clarion might want. "Did you bring anything to the hospital?" she asked, ignoring the fact that he had been about to say something about her dress. She zipped the suitcase shut.

"No," he said quietly and watched her. She had been so quiet since she had cried yesterday, and she continued to avoid discussing anything related to Bernard or why she was at the hospital. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but I just want you to listen. You don't have to say anything." He walked over and leaned his hands down on the footboard while she opened the suitcase again to make sure everything was there. He knew she was listening but didn't really want to. "I know that you don't want anyone to see the scars, and that's your decision. But I hope that with time, you'll feel comfortable when it's just you and me to wear anything and trust that I think you're beautiful. I was afraid to let you see my back, but it helped so much once you did. I trusted you before, but I trust you so much more now seeing for certain that it didn't alter how you feel about me. Remember when you said the longer I went without showing you the more afraid I would be to let you see?"

Her movements with digging around in the suitcase slowed.

"I don't want you to become afraid like that either. I know you feel different from everyone because fairies scar thicker when evil inflicts the wound than if there's an accident, but no one will see anything but loyalty and nobility because you offered your life for Pixie Hollow, Clarion. You bear the wounds for hundreds of us," he said passionately. "And we would never judge. I would never look at you with anything but love."

Tears fell down her cheeks, but she kept her eyes on the suitcase. "Is that what everyone thinks? That I did it for Pixie Hollow?"

"You don't need to say it for us to know."

Her eyes slowly raised to his, a tear dropping from her lashes to spill on the floor. She wasn't sure if she should tell him because he might blame himself.

"Please, let me in," he begged and slowly held out his hand. "I want to help you, but this is a path where only you can choose who goes with you. I will walk it with you, no matter how many times we stumble, no matter how dark it gets. But you must be the one to let me in," he said softly, his eyes begging to help her.

"He cut every time I denied to scream your name," she whispered. "He knew that as long as you lived, Pixie Hollow would not be defeated. I was more afraid of losing you than the entire kingdom," she confessed.

He swallowed hard, his heart breaking for her. "I think it's natural to put love first, sweetheart. I can't say that I wouldn't have caved if it hadn't been you I was protecting. But I don't think you would have given in even if I hadn't been involved," he said softly, his voice full of admiration.

There was a knock on the door and Spruce entered with a smile. "Your sugarwork looks good. No excitement for a few days, though. I'll stop by and check levels again in a few days." Then he handed her a bottle. "Rose nectar in oral form. Take a teaspoon once a day if you get headaches. If you get a headache for more than a day, I want to be called." He looked at her sternly. "Any feeling ill at all and I get a call. I don't care if it turns out to be a cold, I want to be called for a false alarm instead you waiting too long for a real issue. I'd prefer to keep you here for another few days, but a low-stress setting is more beneficial to you." He looked at Milori. "You'll be with her most of the time, I assume?"

She frowned. "I'm not a new fairy who needs babysitting."

"No, just one who miraculously came back to life," Spruce retorted while keeping his eyes on Milori expectantly.

She glared at Milori.

He held up his hands, trying not to smile. "We just want to make sure you're alright."

She scoffed in disgust and rolled her eyes. Then she lifted up the small suitcase, ready to go.

Milori hurried over to take it from her. "You don't need to be carrying extra weight."

"What...Ugh!" She started for the door. "I don't care if you're not done, Spruce, I'm going home," she called from the hall and kept walking.

"I can see this is going to be fun," Milori said dryly and hurried to catch up.

Spruce's laughter could be heard down the hall.

He took her home on Blizzard, the ride short and relaxed.

When he set down her bag in her chambers and then sat in a chair to relieve his aching back—he wasn't quite sure what all she had in that bag to make it so heavy—she looked at him oddly.

"Yes?" he asked with a smile, wondering why she was standing still beside the bed like she was waiting for something.

"You're staying?"

His smile instantly dissipated. "I thought we just agreed with Spruce. You need someone with you." He realized the moment the words left his lips that it was the wrong thing to say.

"I don't need someone with me!" she snapped and snatched up a pillow to throw it at the half closed door. She could feel the anger over the past few days growing and swelling so fast that she couldn't stop it. Part of her mind knew she was losing control and lashing out, but the emotions were so strong she felt like she was going to die if she kept them bottled up any longer. "I don't need you here!" She snatched up another pillow and threw as hard as she could, desperate to rid herself of some of this pain.

He came over and wrapped her in his arms, seeing so much rage in her that she didn't know what to do.

"No!" she cried and shoved on his chest.

Thomas burst into the room, but Milori shook his head at him over his shoulder as he locked his arms around Clarion.

Thomas looked uncertain what was happening but stayed back. He did refuse to leave, however, and watched Milori carefully. Clarion didn't see him.

Tears started running down her face, but she fought and resisted, pushing and hitting his chest blindly with her fists to try to get away. She burst into sobs because she could feel the anger rising, unable to be leashed now that it was breaking free. If she could get away from him, she could bottle it back up before she exploded. "Stop it!" she cried and tried to throw herself backwards in his arms and break loose. Her fists thumped on his chest, but he kept her locked in his arms. "Let go!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face.

She thrashed and hit, but he didn't let go. He swallowed hard, sick that he had to do this to her but knowing she had so much self control that this was the only way she could start to heal. Her blows to his chest were hard and angry as her panic grew to get away from him. He knew she didn't understand why he was doing this. "Say it," he ordered and grabbed her upper arms just firmly enough to stop her hits and frustrate her. She twisted and thrashed, stubbornly trying to fight him still. If he was angry, she might unleash. "Say it!" he yelled and shook her gently but enough to push her over the edge, his eyes fierce and unyielding but his heart bleeding for her. "Say it!" he roared.

His anger fueled her rage, and she couldn't control it any longer.

"I hate you!" she yelled.

The instant the words left her mouth, her anger melted and she started crying, realizing the words were said that she could never revoke. Her hands curled over her mouth, trying to take it back.

He pulled her close and cradled her instantly when she succumbed to sobs and stopped fighting.

"You didn't save me," she wept in gut-wrenching sobs and buried her face against his chest.

He stroked her hair and tears fell down his face as he slowly rocked her in his embrace.

"You promised to always protect me," she wept, knowing she was irrationally blaming him but the words kept pouring out of her heart. "I waited for you, but you didn't come until it was too late."

"I know," he sniffled. "And I am so sorry," he whispered. "It's alright to hate me," he promised and kissed the top of her head.

She was so heartbroken at having said it and so full of pain from Bernard that her legs started to buckle.

He slowly sank to the floor with her, not letting her go for an instant.

Without releasing her arms from around him, she climbed into his lap and sobbed on his chest.


	29. Chapter 29

She was finally quiet a bit later once the storm passed, exhausted both physically and emotionally. Milori continued to hold her, but she sat still, her cheek still on his shoulder that was wet from her tears. Part of her didn't want to let go. It was safe here in his arms. The other part of her was horrified by what she had said and was scared that if she let go, he would walk away. And she wouldn't blame him when she had said such a horrible thing. She took a steadying breath but kept her forehead against his neck and her arms around him.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, her voice thick from tears. "I didn't mean it."

"To some degree you did, but it's natural. I did promise to watch over you, and I should have. I blame myself and don't expect you not to," he said quietly.

She sat up and looked at him, surprised to see his face tearstained too.

He brushed at his eyes with a half laugh. "It's hard to see you hurt."

"I don't want you to blame yourself," she frowned and wiped away a tear on his cheek. "I don't blame you."

He softly wiped her cheek dry. "Clarion, I know that it's irrational and painful, but the truth is you wanted me to come with dust blazing and save you before he could lay a finger on you." His eyes locked with hers, full of understanding and love. "I felt the same when I was captured."

Wide eyes looked at him.

"I knew there wasn't any way in Neverland you would be able to track us, but every moment I was waiting for you to come blasting in and sweep us back home," he said with a pained laugh. His brow furrowed as he looked at her thoughtfully. "I was so angry with you when I got home, but all you wanted to do was help me." He laid a hand over her heart. "I know what it feels like to be so angry in here you think you're going to combust." Then he cupped her cheek gently and looked into her eyes. "I also know what it feels like to have an unrealistic fantasy and be heartbroken when it can't possibly come true."

Her face fell. "I didn't know you were angry with me..."

He grazed the back of his knuckles over her silky cheek. "I was afraid to tell you because I wasn't sure you could understand it wasn't true hatred. I pushed you away to protect you, but that made it so much worse." He slipped his hand into hers, holding her eyes. "I'm sorry that I grabbed you and didn't let go when you told me to stop. I didn't know how to help you get that anger out without making you angry. You're so in control that I knew I had to lose my temper for you to let loose. I swear I won't ever continue again when you tell me to stop. Did I frighten you?" he asked in concern.

"No. I knew you weren't trying to hurt me. I panicked because I was afraid of what I might say."

"I think Thomas was ready to impale me," he teased, hoping to see her laugh.

"What?"

"He heard you and ran in here like he was ready to battle an Alamur," he smiled. "I'm not quite sure why he didn't kill me. He stuck around until he was certain I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"He heard what I said?" she asked in a small voice.

Cupping her cheek in his hand he said, "You need ice cream."

"Huh?" she blinked.

He patted her back lightly. "Hop up. You are too stressed and need to get out. Mary said there is an ice cream shop on the edge of town. She tells me that females like ice cream after they cry. We will go on a big, fancy first true date," he teased, "and get ice cream."

She scooted off his lap onto the floor and looked at him in surprise. "Really?"

He got up and held down his hands. "Would you like to?" he smiled. "I'll take a swim and then we can go."

A smile lit up her face. She realized that getting out and forgetting about everything was just what she needed.

Having guards trailing along, even though they trailed far behind, was new and felt weird to him. But he didn't mind the extra protection for Clarion.

It was the middle of the day and most fairies were at work, so they weren't disturbed at all. He knew by the fact that Clarion slipped her arm through his as they walked and started chattering more the longer they walked that it was good for her to have this break.

She pointed out all of the shops and different things summer had. They were coming up on the ice cream shop when she suddenly stopped, jerking him back a bit.

He looked at her quickly to see her attention focused inward. She spun on her heel and let go of his arm to walk to the right toward the woods. He followed and came to stand beside her. Following her gaze, he looked up and saw something dangling from a branch of a eucalyptus plant.

"What is that?"

"A cocoon," she answered slowly, her eyes studying it from below. "You can see far, can't you?"

"Define 'far.'"

Her eyes remained on the cocoon and she squinted up at it. "You can tell from here if it's wiggling?"

"Can't you?" he asked in surprise.

"Warm fairies can't see as far," she said distractedly and cocked her head as she studied the cocoon.

"Oh," he replied with surprise. Turning his gaze to the plant, he studied it for a moment. "It's wiggling, but a butterfly is supposed to come out, isn't it?"

"Yes. Any cracks in the cocoon?"

He walked in a circle to see the different angles. "None." He startled when a piercing whistle cut through the air and turned to see Clarion with two fingers to her lips.

She saw him blink at her. "What?" she blushed.

"You have to teach me how to do that! I'm sick of carrying an acorn whistle around," he said in amazement.

She climbed up on Blizzard when he arrived. "Hurry up," she ordered Milori.

He smiled and climbed up behind her.

"I don't know if this is a good idea when you can't fly," he said nervously a moment later when she slid off of Blizzard and onto the thin eucalyptus branch.

"So come protect me," she smiled and carefully walked out on the leaf below the cocoon.

He slid down, sent Blizzard down so his hovering wind wouldn't knock Clarion off and followed her.

She frowned and reached up to set her hands on the bottom of what appeared to be a thin green leaf wrapped around something black and orange inside.

He watched the miraculous scene unfold before him.

Closing her eyes, she released a small amount of dust from her hands. Then she opened her eyes and trailed her nail ever so lightly down the sac, creating a small slice in it. The butterfly inside didn't move. Clarion reached up and shot a burst of dust at it and motioned her hands toward herself. The dust slid the butterfly out of the cocoon and down onto the leaf at her feet.

Clarion knelt, gently lifted the damp but beautiful wing and slowly ran her fingers over the top edge to straighten it. Then she did the same thing to the other side, leaving a trail of sparkling dust that slowly faded.

His brow furrowed when the creature still didn't move. "Is it dead?" he asked quietly.

She leaned down and kissed its head. And then she sat back on her heels with her hands in her lap as if waiting.

The wings gave a soft flutter. And then the body moved. A moment later the butterfly fluttered around her and Clarion giggled.

"You're welcome." Then she presented her back to Milori when the butterfly landed again. "Open my wings."

He slowly stepped forward, still in awe. "Your kiss brought it back to life?"

"It wasn't fully dead." She looked at him over her shoulder with a smile at his expression. "I can't open my wings on my own yet."

He carefully lifted them, never having had the chance to study them this closely. They were delicate and gorgeous. The texture was like silk and they glittered brilliantly. The veins were so tiny and delicate that they looked like the most intricate lace. He had to stand on his toes to open them completely. Then he gently pressed his hand between her shoulder blades to keep them up for her so her back wouldn't strain.

The butterfly climbed up on the stalk and Clarion took a couple steps back until their wings nearly touched. He kept his hand on her back and looked in amazement at how identical her wings were to the butterfly's. But his heart fell when he saw how much more jagged her edges were from the amputations. She had lost a fair amount of surface area, and he worried if it caused her problems.

"Her wings stayed wet for too long, and now won't dry," she explained to him. "Go on," she coaxed the butterfly.

The creature slowly started beating its wings against hers, slowly creating a gold cloud of pixie dust from Clarion's wings.

He looked at Clarion in concern that it might hurt her, but she closed her eyes and smiled as if it felt good.

The butterfly suddenly shot into the sky.

Clarion looked up with a smile as it disappeared into the clouds.

He studied her, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. "You will fly again like that," he promised softly, his hand still on her back.

She looked at him with vulnerable eyes. "Is it mean to ask you to teach me to fly again? The weight is so uneven even just standing here. I don't know if I can anymore."

He swallowed hard and looked into her eyes, so touched that she wanted him. "You can, and I would be honored to help you, my lady," he said huskily. "I don't need wings, sweetheart, because you are mine."

A tender smile crossed her lips, and she slipped her arms around his neck as he carefully lowered her wings. "You're a romantic."

"You're sweet and beautiful," he smiled and slowly stroked his hands down her wings instinctively.

She closed her eyes and leaned into him when she felt white dust on her wings.

"What does it feel like?" he asked, his voice low and silky.

"Like a deep massage that tingles warm from your cool hands," she said, her voice lazy and slightly husky. She laid her head down on his shoulder. "It makes me want to mate," she whispered. "To have your baby." She titled her head back for his lips.

"That is one of the most romantic things you've ever said," he replied huskily and captured her mouth, not even realizing that his good wing fluttered rapidly. Her mouth tasted extremely sweet and made him feel oddly drunk in the most incredible way like never before. A surge of electricity ran through him, and he started to lift her onto his hips. A sigh of pleasure escaped her, and her arms wrapped around him tighter. He suddenly realized that she had released the smallest amount of nectar, and it was the hardest battle he had ever fought to let her go. He pulled back in surprise and looked at her to see her breathing heavily and looking just as startled.

"We are partially mated," he breathed. "You can't release nectar unless we are." His heart had never flown higher.


	30. Chapter 30

Clarion took a step back, her eyes still startled.

"Sweetheart?" He gently took her hand.

She blinked and looked at him as if she hadn't seen him.

"What's wrong?"

Setting a hand to her head, she took a deep breath.

He whistled for Blizzard and helped her on, worried about her being up high if she was dizzy. When they landed, he slid down and held up his arms for her.

She looked down at him, still baffled. "I haven't done that since I was born."

"Come down. Done what?" He caught her and set her to her feet.

She looked up at him in confusion. "Gotten a flood of knowledge." Her brow furrowed. "It was about winter."

His eyebrows shot up. "Winter? Why on earth would you be getting winter knowledge? You haven't done that before, have you?"

"No." Her eyes searched his. "Nothing is wrong with Snowflake, is there?"

"Not that I know of. You think she might be fading and you got her knowledge?"

"I don't know. It makes no sense."

He climbed up on Blizzard. "Stay here." He waved Thomas over. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

She waited anxiously for less than five minutes for him to return.

He jumped off Blizzard. "No, she's fine. What kind of knowledge did you get?"

"I know where everything is," she frowned and searched his concerned eyes. "And where to go during a blizzard and such, but I don't know anything more about any talents."

He rubbed her upper arm through her sleeve nervously. "Do you feel alright?"

"I feel fine. I'm sure it's nothing."

"I'm going to get Dewey and see if he knows what's going on. Given what happened to you a few days ago, this has me worried."

Dewey was completely puzzled too. After firing a dozen questions at her he finally said, "I'll be a yetti's uncle if I know what's going on."

She opened her mouth but then wasn't sure if she should say anything in front of Milori.

"What are you thinking?" Milori asked.

Biting her lip, she contemplated. "Don't get your hopes up because we have no idea why it happened."

His brow furrowed.

"Is it possible it's because a baby would be a half winter fairy?" Her eyes darted between Milori and Dewey.

Milori's eyebrows rose as if surprised by the idea.

Dewey scratched his head. "As in being the mother you'd need to know about winter if the child goes into it?"

She nodded.

Milori tried to hold back his excitement. "Could it mean we can have a baby?"

She set a hand on his arm, and he looked at her. "We don't know that it means anything, honey."

"That's right. She has knowledge about things that haven't been useful in nearly four hundred years."

"Thank you, Dewey," she replied dryly.

"I'm just sayin'," he shrugged.

"You're right. We're getting ahead of ourselves," Milori sighed. "We don't even have a home."

"What?" she blinked.

He looked at her with wide eyes. "Oh, um, I didn't talk to you about that, did I?"

"About what?" she asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Um, oh dear, I think I'm in the hot seat," he said and tugged at his neck collar. He looked to Dewey for help.

"I think I'm going home." Dewey flew off quickly.

Blizzard even flew up into the tree.

"What do you mean we don't have a home?" she asked with her hands on her hips.

"Well, sweetheart, the Alamur are so evil that they need to be cremated, according to Sleet, or their sugar can seep into Bright fairies and potentially manifest an Alamur's temper. Being our bedroom had Bernard's sugar spilled in it when I came for you, I was sort of out of options." He winced. "I had to burn down our cabin."

"What?!"

"You can't tell me that you wanted to sleep in that room after what he did to you," he pointed out.

"You could have told me you were going to burn it down!"

"Sweetheart, it has to be within so many hours, and you were barely alive. I didn't want to upset you when you were so fragile," he pleaded for her to understand.

She plopped down on a mushroom with tears in her eyes when she looked up at him. "It took so long to build it. Where will we live?"

He knelt on one knee and took her hands. "We will make a new home, sweetheart. One that is happy. There are more fairies than before, so we can build it within weeks. I thought we're taking it slow anyways, love."

She nodded. "I know. Sometimes I don't want to," she said with a heavy heart.

He smiled and stood, gently tugging her hands for her to stand. "I know, sweetheart." He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. "Let's get ice cream and then we can talk to Mary tomorrow about making blueprints. How does that sound?"

She smiled and let him brush away her tears.

They continued their stroll through town, hand in hand. "I don't think I told you that I have an appointment in a couple hours, but I'll be back by dinner."

"Alright," she said, curious but not sure if she should ask.

He glanced at her with a smile and wrapped his arm around her waist as they approached the ice cream shop. "You are privy to whatever you wish."

"You're testing to see if I would ask," she accused with a smile as he stopped and dug in his pocket for some buttercup petals to pay for the ice cream.

"No...well, maybe," he smiled. "I was curious if you'd care to ask, not that you need to." His eyes drifted up to the menu. "I'll tell you in a minute. What would you like, love?"

She pursed her lips and thought.

"Chocolate? For crying out loud, do you all enjoy breaking your teeth? Chocolate is in practically everything," he frowned as he skimmed the menu.

"What?" she asked in confusion and looked at him.

He blinked at her. "Chocolate," he repeated as if it was obvious.

Then it dawned on her and she stifled her laugh with a hand over her mouth. "You've never had soft chocolate!"

"Soft? It comes in different forms?"

She tugged his arm and went up to the counter. "Two turtle sundaes, please."

"Turtle? What? Why do you eat turtles?!" Milori exclaimed, clearly appalled.

The serving fairy laughed. "It is just a name, my lord."

He took their food in acorn bowls a minute later, studying what was in it. "This is good?" he asked skeptically as he followed her to find a seat. "Where are we going?" he asked when they continued past the tables.

"Yes, it's good, and we're going to a better view. Blizzard! Come here, boy!" she cooed.

Her voice was so enchanting in how she called the owl. "I wish you'd call me like that," he grinned.

She turned with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Come here, boy," she said in a sultry tone and grabbed his shirtfront. She jerked him just hard enough to get her point across without making him spill the ice cream and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. Then she let go and turned to climb up on Blizzard.

"Oh, that's fair!" he pouted with a half chuckle. "Kiss me and then climb on him," he grumbled.

Her mouth fell open. "Milori! You bad male!" she gasped and tried to hide her blush of shock as she took her dish so he could climb up.

He sat behind her and reached around to grab the reins with his free hand. Dropping a delicious kiss on the side of her neck, he purred, "I'm very bad, my lady." Then he took them up into the sky.

They sat on a hill overlooking a field of wildflowers just beyond Pixie Hollow, the guards standing watch in the background. Milori was stretched out with his back against a stone and Clarion leaned against his chest, almost perpendicular to him as they ate.

She looked back at him, tilting her head back so far that he looked upside down. "Do you like it?"

"I do, but the company is better," he smiled and pecked a kiss on her lips. "I take it you are a chocolate fan. You'd better eat faster-it's melting."

"I know," she sighed. "Mary says I'm a slow eater. It always melts before I finish." She took another spoonful.

He waved his hand over her dish and frosted her ice cream lightly.

She laughed and looked back at him again. "You're so handy."

He laughed. "Yes, I'm good for preserving your ice cream."

"Yes," she said and tilted her head back down to take another bit. "I should find more uses for you besides making babies and keeping ice cream cold."

He burst out laughing, making her bounce slightly against him. "I would be content with those."

"Until you have fifty children running around." She held up her spoon to point at him and leaned over slightly to look at him over her shoulder. "I will give birth four times at the most. After that, you're getting pregnant."

"I would do it for you if I could, sweetheart," he smiled and set down his empty bowl.

She gave him a look. "Uh huh." Then she turned back around and took another bite of ice cream. "We'll see if that's your answer after you see me push out a baby."

He tilted his head to kiss the side of her head. "I'll be with you the whole time. I can't promise I won't faint, but I'll be there," he teased.

"Darn right you'll be there. You put it in, you can help get it out," she scoffed.

"I think you're going to love being pregnant. You're the type who will relish in it. And you'll be very beautiful during it." He slipped his hand over her stomach and kissed her cheek.

"You're not scoring points to use for later," she warned. "What is this appointment you need to go to?"

He sighed and sat up.

She sat up and looked at him, not sure why he sighed.

"I don't want to go," he explained with his eyes focused on his lap. "I go to see Spruce's therapist friend."

She set down her bowl and scooted closer, setting her hand on his chest and resting her other over his hand on his thigh. "Do you want me to come?"

He shook his head and looked her in the eye. "We might talk about some things that are just too dark for you to even know exist, and I'm not sure how long we'll be."

"I phrased that wrong. Do you want me to come in or wait outside?" She looked at him seriously.

He smiled softly and had a slight gleam of relief in his eyes. She realized he had thought he would have been asking something of her that he shouldn't. Holding her hand he said quietly, "Wait outside."

She went to the hospital with him a bit later but had all the guards but Thomas hold back. "Not a word to anyone, understood?" she informed Thomas when he accompanied them inside. "This is private business."

"Of course," he nodded with a slight bow and followed them to a small office at the end of a hall on the second floor. He waited outside while she went into the waiting room with Milori.

Clarion sat down to give him privacy while Milori went over to the receptionist to inform her that he had arrived for an appointment. She blushed and stumbled around getting papers. Clarion frowned, her ears perking up when she heard the female giggle. Walking over to Milori, she wrapped her arm around his waist and stepped close to him. "Everything alright, sweetheart?" she asked sweetly.

He wrapped his arm around her, the proximity of her forcing him to do so or turn away slightly. "Yes," he said, a bit confused by her use of his pet name for her.

"Oh! Your Highness!" the young fairy squeaked and curtsied, spilling her stack of papers. Her eyes bounced between Milori and Clarion.

"Do you need anything else from us?" she asked innocently.

"Oh. No, no. The healer will be out in just a moment," she replied quickly, dropping more papers.

"Thank you."

Milori led her to the chairs with a hand on the small of her back. "Sweetheart?" he smiled with a whisper.

Clarion sat and then linked her arm through his when he sat beside her. "She was practically drooling like a dog," she huffed.

A laugh barked out of him, which he quickly smothered. "Don't tell me you're jealous of someone less than half your age..."

She cocked an eyebrow at him angrily.

"...and half your brain," he finished with a smile.

"Nice save," she muttered and then crossed her legs lazily. "You can have a twit for a mate and be childless," she said without interest.

"Ooh, ouch," he hissed in a breath with a smile. "A little feisty today, eh? I don't mind having an older female," he teased, keeping his voice quiet.

Her eyes shot him a dark look. "I'm only a day older."

The healer stepped out from behind the closed door and gave Milori a bow. "I'm ready when you are, my lord."

Milori pecked a kiss on her cheek. "I know, you're a cradle robber, sweetheart," he whispered with a grin. He stood and followed the healer into the room, throwing a smile and wink at her over his shoulder to let her know he was teasing.

The door shut and she smiled, glad that she had sufficiently distracted him so he wasn't terribly nervous before the session had even started. That was one of many things she loved about Milori—he could hold his own during witty banter.


	31. Chapter 31

She held his hand when they walked out of the hospital and watched him as he stared down at the ground. The healer, Rufus, had spent over an hour talking with Milori. Then he had brought her in to make sure she understood what was going on with Milori and what she could do to help. Now as they walked back to the castle, Milori looked exhausted like the past couple hours had added years to him. His limp was slightly more pronounced, and he walked slightly stiff as if his back hurt.

"Honey, do you want to talk?" she asked gently.

He shook his head slowly. "In private."

She wrapped her arm around his, wishing she could offer him more comfort on the way back to the castle. Bringing his hand to her lips, she kissed it softly.

He gave a weak, sorrowful smile.

As soon as they arrived, she led him to her chambers and closed the door.

"Clarion, it's not proper to shut the door," he sighed and started to turn around to open it.

She blocked his path. "Lie down on the bed. Your back hurts, and I don't care if it's proper or not, you need to talk without ears listening," she ordered. "Lie down." Taking his arm, she pulled him over to the bed and stripped off his shirt.

"I..."

She gave him a warning look.

He growled but laid down on his stomach. "I don't know how you sleep on something this soft," he mumbled when he sank into the fluffy mattress.

She cooled her hands in the washroom and then came out to hike up her skirt and climb on the bed. "I don't know how you sleep on a block of ice," she replied calmly, realizing he was cranky. Starting at his neck, she began working out the knots of tension in his shoulders. "Do your scars in the muscles hurt if I rub them?"

"Not if it isn't too hard." A deep groan escaped him as his back started to loosen up a minute later.

"Tell me why you're so quiet," she said gently.

He propped his chin up on his hands and stared at the pillows. "It was humiliating," he said quietly. "To have every flaw pointed out to you and it laid out how messed up I am...it could take years before I'm fit to be a mate or father, Clarion. I thought...I thought we could be mated within a couple seasons," he sighed.

"Milori," she said gently. "It was not a critique session. He said that you have come so far on your own and you might not need to see him after a few more months." She laid down on the bed beside him and stroked his back, not minding that it was bumpy and jagged from the thick scars.

He laid his cheek on his hands and looked at her. "Do you wish Lilly hadn't come along?" he asked seriously as if the question truly puzzled him.

"No, I don't. Spruce and I are friends, nothing more. And neither of us desire more. Rufus said sometimes you're going to question if we should be together; is this that or something else?" she inquired, her eyes searching his face to understand him.

Slipping a hand into hers he admitted, "I feel so much worse after going there. I thought I'd feel better, at least in some way."

She kissed his handsome bicep next to her. "Give it time, honey. Do you want to tell me what you talked about with him?"

Pushing himself up, he released a heavy sigh. "Not today, sweetheart."

"Milori?"

He sat up and looked at her.

She looked deep into his eyes, her heart on her sleeve for one of the few times in her life. Swallowing hard, she looked down at her hands in her lap for a moment, a bit afraid to jump when he was being closed off. But she wanted to jump to him.

Gently cupping her cheek, he guided her chin up to meet her eyes. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asked in concern.

She swallowed back the lump in her throat, seeing only love looking back at her. "You're the hero of Pixie Hollow..."

"No," he protested with a shake of his head and opened his mouth to say more.

"And the hero of my heart," she added softly.

His eyebrows rose slightly in surprise and his eyes grew slightly wide with wonder. "What?" he whispered as if he couldn't believe what she had said.

Feeling her face flush, she held his eyes. "I didn't realize until I was with Spruce how much I missed you. I hurt so much from thinking you walked away again that I tried to love him. But it has always been you, Milori." Her last words faded to a whisper when her throat constricted with tears waiting to fall. Slipping her hand into his, she opened her heart and hoped he would look inside. "You're not just a best friend and lover, you're a mentor and make me want to be a better fairy. I know you felt humiliated this afternoon, but I wish you could see right here," she said in a thick voice and laid a hand over her heart. "Because I have never admired anyone more than I do you. The more pain and burden I learn that you carry, the more I admire your strength and grace. You are my beacon, Milori, in trials as a ruler and as a lover. I know we will have hard times as rulers and as lovers, but I want to fight for you. For us." She cupped his face in her hands and held his misty eyes as she declared her love. "As queen I bow to no one...but my heart always will to you."

This amazing creature, who had more strength and wisdom than he could even fathom, blessed him not only with her love but her admiration. Humbled did not describe how he felt to learn that the fairy whom he held in the highest regard possible for another living creature, looked up to him-he who was simply a lord without her wisdom or grace. Her words shook his soul and shattered the walls around his heart. She didn't see him as broken or wanting. She was able to see into his heart and move him with simply her heartfelt words. This beautiful being before him had just touched the deepest of his wounds and had begun to heal scars that the therapist had said were impossible to touch.

He leaned his forehead against hers and gently wiped away her tear with his thumb. Closing his eyes he whispered, "You are the embodiment of everything I had always imagined an angel to be, who would always be there to guide me when I got lost. But never did I think I would be blessed with having her as my soulmate." A tear of love caressed his cheek. "I am so lost, Clarion," he whispered in a thick voice. He opened his eyes and looked into her heart. "But never have I seen the path home so clearly...you're my home."


	32. Chapter 32

Milori stayed overnight with her until Spruce was to declare her as good as new in a few days.

She woke up the next day and peeked down at Milori, who was sleeping on ice in a gourd to keep the melted ice from leaking everywhere. Slipping into the washroom, she brushed her hair and teeth before pinching her cheeks to bring out a little pink color. Then she tiptoed back into bed quickly when she heard him sigh and roll over as if he was starting to wake up. She was tucked back in bed with her hair arranged prettily on the pillow and her eyes closed when she heard him yawn.

"Your wings swish when you tiptoe," he said in a lazy morning voice, followed by a chuckle.

A sigh of disgust escaped her, and she opened her eyes to see him getting up.

His eyes danced when he looked down at her. "Pretty, as always, but I have to admit I favor how you looked at four o'clock this morning when I looked at you when I couldn't sleep. Wild curls and the covers strewn about in abandon are sweet," he smiled.

"You rake. You shouldn't look when I'm sleeping," she blushed and sat up.

"Then don't rush to erase the sleepiness before I get up," he countered with a wink and disappeared into the washroom.

When he came out, he was freshly shaven with teeth brushed but otherwise the same. He pulled on his shirt.

"Don't put it on," she blurted and then held the sheets up to her mouth with embarrassment and wide eyes.

A deep baritone belly laugh rang through the air and he smiled at her, straightening his tunic. "I'm glad that you prefer me without, but I should be properly dressed if I'm in your bed." Then he dove onto her bed.

She squealed in surprise and laughed when he bounced her with his force.

Then he rolled onto his back, laced his fingers with hers beside him and closed his eyes. "Mm, this is good," he sighed in contentment.

She looked down at his hand holding hers and smiled. "You have big hands." Gently pulling her hand away, she straightened it to lay her palm against his. His hand was almost twice as wide and his fingers nearly another digit longer than hers. With a glance, she saw him watching what she was doing with their hands.

"Yours are so delicate yet strong," he said quietly and gently turned over her hand to study it.

"Can you feel anything in your broken wing?" she asked suddenly.

He heaved a deep sigh and slowly met her eyes. "I can't feel anything in it anymore. Spruce said in time something will probably happen to it like I'll catch it in a door, or roll on it and bend it bad while sleeping, and I'll damage it. He said it might need to be amputated at the base one day," he said quietly.

She gently scooted down to drape herself half over him and stroke his cheek. "And do you think it would bother me one bit, or are you quiet because it bothers you?"

"No, I have trouble balancing sometimes as it is, and I just worry if I'll have trouble carrying the children if it's a full amputation."

She gazed down at him, marveling at how far he'd come in his self-confidence the past weeks. "We will cross that bridge if we get to it. It's not as if we get old and unsteady like humans, so I have no doubts that we'll figure something out."

"Clarion?" he asked quietly.

"Hm?"

"How soon do you want to have a baby after we mate?" He tenderly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

Her heart beat faster with excitement, surprised by the question, but she tried to temper herself."Well, if it will be difficult to get pregnant, I'm thinking maybe start trying in the next fifty years," she said carefully so he wouldn't feel that it was his fault.

His eyebrows shot up. "Oh."

"Did you want to wait longer?" she frowned.

"No, that's just longer than I expected. I was thinking more like in the next couple years to start trying, assuming it might take a handful of years, if I even can get you with child."

"A couple?! I thought we could have some time together first."

He nodded. "Alright, maybe I'm too anxious. How about twenty five years?"

She was silent for a moment, lost in thought. "Milori, what if it happens the first time?"

Taking her hands, he held her eyes. "Dewey said it can't happen the first time because I can't...the first time," he blushed. "The first mating is only meant to bind our lights."

"Oh. Dewey says a pregnancy lasts eleven months, and a baby would probably grow up slower than a human child. It sounds like it would take roughly fifty years for a baby to reach adulthood, so the baby would be fully mature by the time the kingdom is handed over."

"But the baby doesn't become ruler until after you...?"

She shook her head. "No, Dewey says the lifespan is based on the time ruled, so if we had a baby next year, she would be alive for a thousand years to rule, plus whatever time is left for our lives."

He blinked. "Our lives?"

She looked at him. "...Yes."

"You mean your lifespan? Or starting after I go?"

"Milori, whoever mates with the queen has the lifespan to match being the mate."

His eyebrows shot up. "You mean if we mate, I would gain two hundred years?"

She nodded.

He blinked at her rapidly, trying to digest it. "How did I not know about this?"

She sat up when he started to sit up. "Is this a bad thing?" she asked in confusion.

He turned to her with the brightest smile she had ever seen. "We have two hundred more years together to be a family?"

She smiled.

He pulled her into his lap and tilted her back in his arms to kiss her. Then he pulled back for a second. "Does Dewey know if they'll be daughters?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes that were glittering with joy. "He thinks so, but he doesn't know if it can be more than one baby being only one can be ruler."

"A daughter," he breathed with wonder. "She'll be as pretty and sweet and intelligent as you," he smiled and looked into her eyes. "One or four is the perfect number. I just want each of you to be healthy." Then he kissed her again.

She helped him with his wing exercises a bit later and then he stood and took her hand. "Now it's time for you to fly," he smiled.

"What? Spruce said..."

"Spruce told me after he examined you last night that he thinks your wings are ready. Come, sweetheart. Let me see you touch the clouds."

She walked outside with him, nervous and self-conscious.

He stood behind her and gently supported her wings as she raised them.

"It doesn't hurt," she said in confusion over her shoulder.

"Because I did a little healing to your wings when you were in the hospital," he smiled and watched them rise to their full height that was taller than him.

A smile lit up his face when he heard her sigh with happiness. His heart filled with joy for her. Stepping around to her front, he took her hands with anticipation. The swell in his chest grew when he saw her eyes light up.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back her excitement. Feeling her wings stretch out made her almost giddy. It had been months since she had felt this...this anticipation of freedom. She only wished Milori could fly in the sky with her.

He held out his hands to her with a smile on his face. "Flutter, sweetheart."

Slowly, she started to flap her wings.

"Yes, sweetheart. Faster," he urged, his smile growing wider.

Her large golden wings glittered in the sunlight as she flapped faster. Her feet slowly lifted off the ground and she hovered. But then she crashed into his arms.

He set her to her feet. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"No, I tried to turn," she replied with a broken heart and looked up at him.

"Your weight is uneven from the amputations. Don't lean quite so far on your left to compensate," he explained. "Try again."

It took several tries before she was able to turn with the guidance of his hand and not fall. Even standing with her wings open felt unbalanced and awkward. To Milori's everlasting credit, he was patient and encouraging and had only concern for her as he taught her how to compensate. It took a couple hours for her to practically relearn how to fly.

"I can't turn!" she cried in frustration when they were several feet in the air and he had to swoop down on Blizzard to catch her again.

"Patience, sweetheart. It will take time to adjust and learn. I've been walking for nearly four hundred years, and I still lose my balance sometimes." So she kept trying because he was trying so hard.

"Go," he urged and started to let go of her hands, wanting her to soar where nothing could weigh her down. "You can do it this time."

She landed on Blizzard and held his hands. "Come with me," she asked softly with hope in her eyes.

"I'll always be right behind you," he promised.

Looking into his eyes she whispered, "I want you always beside me, Milori."

"You had to go and melt my heart, didn't you?" he smiled and brushed a kiss over her lips. "I'm coming. Show me how dazzling you are in the sky."

She gathered her courage and took off into the skies toward the sun. He laughed with joy upon seeing her in flight for the first time in months and then chased after her on Blizzard. He learned that day that when the queen played in the clouds, she could tear through the mists so fast that rainbows chased after her.

It had been a lazy, relaxing few days with Milori, but Spruce had declared her sound. So now Milori was back to sleeping at his home in winter. And she was back to business.

It was nearly sunset and she was oblivious to everything, with her nose buried in books in the study.

A cool hand swept down her arms covered in her long-sleeved dress. Screaming with fright, she instantly twisted in her chair with dilated eyes and half expected an Alamur to be there.

Milori startled nearly as hard as her. "I'm sorry. I thought you heard me. I was talking as I came over."

Thomas stepped in instantly. "Everything alright?"

She nodded and set a hand to her breast, her heart thudding wildly.

Thomas returned to stand watch in the hall.

Clarion took a couple steadying breaths as she turned back to the books. "No, I didn't hear you. What are you doing here?" she asked, returning her attention back to what she had been writing.

He stepped around her chair and leaned his hip against the desk lazily to look at her face. Her brow was furrowed in concentration. "We're supposed to go out for dinner tonight, remember? Do want to go another night?" The worry on her face had him concerned, but he didn't want to read what she was working on and pry into her business matters.

"I can't," she said distractedly. Then she threw down her quill in a fit and swore under her breath, burying her face in her hands.

"Do you want help with something?"

"Gary told the Minister of Summer a couple days ago that his shop is getting less dust from the tree." She shot up to march over to the thousands of books along the wall and search for something. "I was not informed until this morning," she ground out. "The tree is producing half the usual amount of dust, even when adding blue dust." She snatched up a book and returned to the desk.

"And no one knows what's causing it?" he frowned.

"No! I've run calculations over and over, and we will run out of dust by the end of the year." She opened the book and started flipping through.

"May I?" he asked, pointing to her notes spewed across the desk.

She waved her hand in defeat.

He studied sheet after sheet and finally turned to her. "Did you do all of this?"

"Yes," she groaned and dropped her head down on her arms on the desk. "For twelve hours."

"I wish I could help you, but I don't understand what half of this means," he admitted, quite impressed by the mathematics and science involved.

She sat up and shook her head with frazzled tears in her eyes. "No, somebody has to know something. Even Dewey said he can't follow what I'm doing. I might be doing something wrong. I can't be the only one who knows how to figure out the calculus," she started to panic, her nerves so frayed she felt like she was losing her mind.

"Calm down," he said gently and knelt on one knee to hold her shoulders still and force her to make eye contact. "What do you mean Dewey doesn't know what you're doing?"

She pulled out of his grasp and flipped open a half dozen books. "If the blue dust has a half-life of twenty-four hours, we should be exponentially increasing gold dust by adding six specs of blue dust daily, right?"

"Right."

She pulled forward another book and started pointing to dust data and analytics. "The blue dust's properties aren't altering. It's still holding the half life, generating enough byproducts of nitrogen and other compounds to sufficiently sustain a tree of this size."

"Alright," he said, not quite following the math and chemistry she was writing down.

They continued for hours, and he couldn't keep up with her but she seemed to be doing alright as long as she had someone to explain her math to as a way to double check herself. Just before sunrise, he was ready to drop with exhaustion.

"Look at the decrease. If you take the half life equal to the log of two, divided by lambda, I get twenty-four hours for half-life." She didn't bother to look if he was watching but snatched up another paper. The exponential decay is a scalar multiple of..." She paled. "Oh Neverland..." she whispered in horror and stared at her paper.

"What?" he yawned. "Sweetheart, I'm not afraid to admit your intellect is far superior, and none of this is making any sense to me still."

"If there are two decay modes, the half-life isn't really the half-life..." She started scribbling down symbols and extrapolating numbers to plug into other formulas until she had a full page of what looked like a foreign language to him. "If we get the partial mean life from one mode of decay, which is the multiplicative inverse of corresponding partial decay constant..."

He got up from is chair and walked around the desk to set a hand on her back. "Love, I think maybe we should get some sleep. This isn't good for you to be up this long doing such intense work. We can come back to it in a few hours."

She stared down at her page.

"Sweetheart?"

Wide eyes looked up at him. "The blue dust is creating so little gold dust that it's as if the half-life is less than five hours."

It took a moment for his tired mind to catch up. Then his eyes widdened in horror. "The tree is the second decay," he whispered and immediately shot around behind her to look at her wings. "How much are you bound to the tree?" he demanded as he gently unfolded them.

She looked behind herself to see the delicate veins a gray hue at the tips. Large eyes looked at Milori.

He stared at her without seeing, his eyes witnessing something far darker and more evil than she could imagine. "The Alamur," he whispered in horror and then ran to the door. "Thomas! Wake every minister and Sleet. I want all garden fairies brought to the tree to within the next thirty minutes. And send someone for Spruce."

Thomas and the guards looked startled.

"Go!" he cried, his hands shaking from panic but didn't want to cause an uproar in Pixie Hollow yet.

"Milori?" she asked in a small voice. "Alamur sugar got to the roots during the war and into the Pixie Tree didn't it?"

He forced himself to turn and face her, unable to bear the fear looking at him through those beautiful eyes. "I think so," he said with regret, his voice cracking.

"It's inside the tree. And me because I'm part butterfly and part Pixie Tree," she whispered.


	33. 33

Milori paced in the lawn outside the castle doors. Spruce was examining her, but Sleet had pulled Milori aside a few minutes ago.

"I have only seen this happen with Alamur sugar in direct contact with a Bright Fairy's wound," Sleet said quietly, the seriousness in his voice making Milori brace himself. "The Bright Fairy went insane with rage. She went gray and it was the most horrific death I've ever seen." He looked away from Milori.

"She was your mate," Milori said gently, not even needing to ask by the heartbroken look on Sleet's face.

Sleet swallowed hard and looked Milori in the eye with tears brimming. "I was going to ask her. We were laying in a daffodil field, her favorite flowers, when a thistle ran through and cut us. I didn't know that my sugar would kill her," he said in a thick voice. "Her mind came back at the end, but she was so terribly painful," he almost choked. His eyes met Milori's. "Don't let her stay awake once the madness sets in. It's cruel to let her suffer."

Milori met Sleet's eyes. "She was from another land? Couldn't the healers do anything?"

"They couldn't. They even gave her a full sugar transfusion to flush out my sugar."

"Sleet, I'm sorry that you lost her." He set a hand on his shoulder in comfort. "I know that it wasn't at all pleasant having all of your sugar transfused with Bright Fairy sugar when you came here, but I couldn't risk anyone coming in contact with Alamur sugar. I wish you would have told me when we did it what had happened to her. I didn't realize..."

Sleet shook his head, shrugging off the pain and fear he had gone through. "The Queen hasn't told anyone that I'm an Alamur, has she?"

"No. Only Spruce and her know. I have no doubt that if she promised you she wouldn't tell that she'll keep it a secret."

Sleet set a hand on Milori's shoulder. "If there's anything I can do, let me know. But you should talk to her and Spruce about sedation before she gets worse."

Milori stared at the grass as he continued pacing. There had to be a way. He didn't accept that after everything they had survived, this was the end for Clarion. He had already lived through hours of her being dead and knew it was not something he could do again. He went in search of the garden fairies Thomas was rounding up. He didn't realize that Sleet had followed.

"Rosetta," he said firmly and landed Blizzard in the grasses surrounding the Pixie Tree.

She turned, along with the other handful of garden fairies. "Yes, my lord?" She gave a curtsy.

"You have the strongest talents among the garden fairies, I hear?" He walked over and stopped before these fairies who were looking at him with wide eyes.

"I suppose. We haven't really tested," she said, slightly nervous of him.

"The Pixie Tree absorbed Alamur sugar during the war, and it is slowing the dust production." His eyes swept over all of them. "The Queen is deeply tied to the tree, and the Alamur sugar has seeped into her wings."

Gasps went around the group.

"I will not accept that there is nothing we can do. I want you all to dig up the tree roots or do whatever it takes to save it. No idea is to be dismissed. I want every possible option exhausted before tomorrow. We have hours to save her." His hard eyes fell upon Rosetta. "I will be in the castle with the ministers figuring what else to do. If you need tools, advice, anything...I want you to come to me immediately. We don't have any time to waste."

"Yes, Lord Milori. I must ask, though, do we need precautions before touching the tree? What if we find Alamur sugar?"

Sleet flew over. "I can touch it. I'm still able to tolerate their sugar."

Milori nodded.

"I think this task is too great for just garden fairies, my lord. We need at least a couple water fairies to help and animal fairies to direct animals to help us dig up the roots. I think that if we can find where in the roots it entered, we might be able to at least seal it off and cut away the infected part of the tree."

"I want as few fairies exposed as possible to ensure no one touches the sugar. Two water and two animal fairies will be sufficient?"

She nodded.

Minutes later, Fawn, Silvermist and a couple other fairies were present and updated on the situation.

Milori watched curiously as Silvermist, a dainty and perhaps slightly featherbrained water fairy walk up to Sleet. No one ever walked up to Sleet. Milori even preferred to avoid him when possible because he was so dark and heavy to be around.

"You're an Alamur," she whispered in wonder so only Sleet and Milori could hear.

Sleet stumbled back a step, startled and afraid a riot would erupt if anyone found out.

"I won't hurt you," Silvermist said gently and looked up at him, barely coming up to his shoulder.

Sleet blinked. "You're not afraid of me?"

She frowned and cocked her head. "Do you want to hurt me?"

"No," he blurted, completely offguard with this small female. "I don't think I like you."

Milori was about to step in and stop Sleet.

She frowned. "That's not very nice. I think you're cranky because you need some water. You live in winter?" She didn't wait for an answer but flew over to the river at the border and brought back a large drop of water. Then she dropped it over him.

He sputtered the water off his face.

"There. Now, frost yourself," she smiled and landed, waiting for him to grin from her assistance.

He looked at her dryly and shook off his arms. "I can't frost myself," he growled.

She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh! I'm sorry!" She grabbed a leaf and tried drying him off.

"What the..?!" Sleet stumbled back, bumping into Milori.

Milori couldn't help but laugh. Never had he seen Sleet so flustered.

"Hold still!" she said in frustration and kept trying to dry him.

Sleet flung his hand out as if swatting away a fly. And hit her.

Milori froze. Sleet was large and muscled, like himself, and an innocent accident was a serious matter for a female as small as Silvermist. She was flung back out of the air and into a boulder, her body making a cracking sound when she hit before she dropped to the ground in a heap.

Sleet and Milori ran over just as she was pushing herself up.

"I'm sorry. Are you alright?" Sleet asked, gently feeling her for any injuries.

She held her elbow as she got up, ignoring Sleet's hand. Keeping her eyes downcast, she nodded and tried to sidestep them.

"Let me see," Sleet said gruffly and reached for her.

Milori grabbed Sleet's arm when she shied away and looked nervous of Sleet. Milori stepped forward and gently pulled her hand away to see something pressing up under her skin. "It's broken." He wasn't sure if they were tears of hurt or pain that were gathering in her eyes. Or both.

Rosetta and Fawn flew over and started to fuss over her.

"I'll take you to the hospital," Sleet said quickly.

Silvermist didn't say a word but shook her head without looking at him and let her friends take her away.

Milori turned back to Sleet. "She was trying to be friends. She might not be the most intelligent, but she has a huge heart. I'm not leaving you here," he growled, enraged that one of his fairies had hurt one of Clarion's. He grabbed Sleet's arm and was ready to drag him away.

Sleet jerked his arm away, his eyes following the females flying toward the hospital. Then he looked at Milori. "I'll stay away until they need me to touch the Alamur sugar," he promised with a heavy heart and then flew into the trees of winter.

Milori went to see what Spruce had figured out what to do with Clarion.


	34. 34

Clarion sat near the window and watched Milori directing the garden fairies. He apparently had an idea, but she didn't know how to break it to him that Spruce had already determined the Alamur sugar had already reached her organs. Spruce said he had read about this happening to victims of the Alamur, and even complete transfusions couldn't save Bright Fairies. The worst part was that if it had been in an appendage and if the progression in the tree could be stopped, an amputation would save her. But it was originating from her wings, and that was the one part of her that could not be amputated without instant death.

Milori looked up and saw her in the window, his eyes full of stubborn determination. He headed inside.

She stared out the window while waiting for him to come. What an ironic ending to have an Alamur get her, even after all of the times Milori had fought to save her from them.

He burst into the room and quickly crossed to sit down in the window seat and face her. "What did he say? What is there to be done?" he asked gently but couldn't disguise the urgency in his voice. He took her hand.

Her eyes remained out the window, hoping to avoid seeing the pain in his eyes because it would make it all so much harder to witness him suffering. "Three days," she said quietly. "It has already spread to organs." Her head finally turned to meet his eyes, and they held so much more devastation than she had been ready to see. "He thinks by morning I'll be mad," she whispered and a tear fell from her lashes. "He..." She had to clear her throat from the lump forming. "He's going to sedate at sunrise..." Her voice broke and she fought to hold back the tears and be strong for him when she saw how much agony every word brought him, destroying his heart little by little. "He said it won't be painful that way, and it will be easier on you not seeing me go crazy." Her lip quivered, and tears rolled down his cheeks. "You can't take me back to the tree. You have to cremate me."

He shook his head fiercely. "No."

"My body will only spread the sugar," she started to weep.

His face crumpled and he pulled her into his lap to hold her tight. "No. We will figure something out. I'm not giving up," he croaked as he started to break down and weep while he cradled her.

"I'm so scared," she whispered against his neck. "I wasn't scared to die when it was Bernard or when my wings were amputated."

"Don't be frightened. I'm right here, sweetheart. I vow I will find a way to stop this," he whispered against her hair and kissed her cheek. He rocked her gently, holding her tight as she wept and tears rolled down his face.

Spruce was summoned a bit later when she had trouble staying awake.

"It's her body's way of trying to protect itself from the evil," Sleet said quietly outside her bedchamber.

"I don't understand. I thought we had until tomorrow," Milori accused with tears on his face. He paced, feeling himself beginning to tip toward madness with grief already.

Spruce exited the room. "She's asleep. It has spread so much faster than we thought. I gave a light sedation because she was having pain in her wings. She'll wake up tonight, but that might be the last time," he said in a thick voice, his eyes red from weeping.

"Don't you damn tell me this is it!" Milori roared, thrusting his finger down at the ground. The veins in his neck bulged from his fury and his heart slamming in his chest. "She will not die from the war! She will not pay the price because we couldn't keep them far enough from her!" His eyes were dark and angry, rage fueling his broken heart. "I don't care what you have to do, you will keep her alive! I will find the source of this poison and cut it myself from that tree!"

"It's in her organs. Cutting it from the tree will not help her anymore," Spruce said calmly, feeling the pain for his friend.

Milori growled in his face, his eyes narrowed and full of evils they had witnessed that Spruce took a step back. "If you have to replace every one of her organs with mine, you will do it. She will not die," he snarled. Then he spun on his heel and marched outside.

Rain poured and lightening cracked across the sky that afternoon as the Queen rapidly deteriorated. The rumble of thunder was deafening, but the fairies labored on trying to find the source of poison killing the queen. All of Pixie Hollow was helping, but Milori was the only one permitted to cut the tree because he knew that whatever damage was made to the tree would cause pain to the Queen. Spruce stayed with Clarion while she was still sedated. He meticulously cut out every spec of black Alamur sugar the garden fairies and Sleet found, careful to not cut more than necessary but not giving mercy to a single particle that could later manifest and harm his sweetheart.

The fairies kept working, but they knew their task was fruitless as the storm worsened. They found a large boil in the tree, Sleet suspecting it was the source. Milori hacked around the boil, swinging his axe wildly to get the poison out of Clarion. Pixie Hollow watched their lord begin to succumb to madness from which none of them could save him.


	35. Chapter 35

Tinkerbell was softly crying a bit back from the tree in a field of tulips.

Terence flew over. "Tink? What's wrong?" He sat down beside her.

"The Queen isn't going to make it, is she?"

He set a hand on her back. "I don't know," he sighed sadly. "But I think if we believe we can save her, maybe we will. Sometimes, Tink, you have to have faith when logic is telling you there's no hope."

Milori wiped his arm over his damp brow as Sleet threw the boil into the fire. He ran for the river and jumped in so he could cool down before going to Clarion. Then he climbed out and started running while he frosted himself.

A sense of urgency washed over him. Something had happened with her. His heart told him that he needed to get to her. Now. He ran faster, not waiting for Blizzard to answer his whistle. Blizzard circled overhead a moment later, letting out a cry when he felt Milori's panic. With a wave of his arm, Milori signaled the bird to do a flyby mount. Blizzard swooped down and flew just millimeters above the ground. Without breaking stride, Milori grabbed Blizzard's feathers and pulled himself up onto his back. They ripped through the air a second later and up to Clarion's window.

He pushed the window open, not caring if it had been locked because he would have broken in. She was awake but her color was gray and her wings no longer glittered. He ran over and took her hands. "I'm here, sweetheart. We got it out of the tree. It's gone."

Spruce got up from the other side of the bed and turned away to wipe his eyes.

Milori knew from Spruce's lack of joy that she was past hope.

A weak smile caressed her lips and dull gray eyes looked up at him. "You always keep your promises," she said, little louder than a whisper. Then she reached up and gently touched his cheek. "When the tree dies, a single seed will be in the center. You must plant it where the three seasons touch. A new tree will grow and a queen will be born after three seasons. There is enough dust to get Pixie Hollow through until then. You must be the ruler until she arrives."

His face crumpled and he slowly sank to his knees, his head lowering in despair until he was weeping on her breast. "You can't leave me," he choked. His arms wrapped around her, and he could feel the evil taking hold of her. No longer was she warm and radiating a feeling of joy and life. She felt cold and despair flowed out from her presence.

"Milori?" she said weakly.

He lifted his head and sniffled, meeting her eyes.

"I don't want to die here."

His lip quivered hearing her say the words of his nightmares.

"I feel so cold and lonely. I can feel Nature separating from me, and it will stop raining any minute. Take me to a field of flowers. Take me to spring where I showed you the warm seasons. Remember when I walked you through spring to see fireflies?" she asked.

"Of course I remember, sweetheart." He stood to take her in his arms.

Spruce stepped forward and slipped a syringe into Milori's pocket. "If she starts going mad, sedate her," he whispered.

He jerked it out and shoved it back at Spruce, his brow furrowed with anger. "She won't go mad. And I will not sedate her." His voice cracked, "It's like killing her because it'll be the last time she's awake."

She held up her arms and he gently scooped her up. He held her as they rode Blizzard, her body growing weaker with every passing minute. They landed.

"Promise me something," she said softly with her head resting against his chest as he walked her away from Blizzard and into a magnificent field of buttercups.

"What, sweetheart?" he asked and took a deep, steadying breath. Each step was filled with soul-wrenching pain because he knew these were his last moments with her. He wanted to scream and sob because he knew the agony that awaited in a world without her this time. Waiting for the end, dreading the end, made him wanted to scream with grief as if he was possessed by Evil itself. Part of him knew that if he held her body long enough after she was gone that the Alamur darkness would find his soul. And Alamurs were prone to tearing their own wings in the face of torment. Holding her dead body would be his torment. The idea of causing oneself to fade had once frightened and horrified him. But now it was a means to an end that he desperately wanted if she wasn't in this world. But his conscience told him it would shame Clarion if he was that weak.

"Promise me that as soon as I'm gone, you won't touch me," she said weakly, cutting into his thoughts. "I can feel the evilness coming, and I don't want you harmed. Spruce said that it's a darkness beyond imagining, and I'm scared that it will latch onto your grief and make you do something you're too strong to do otherwise."

He looked down at her ashen face, somehow not surprised that she knew exactly what he was thinking. Then his eyes wandered away as he lowered her onto the plush grass, worried about walking with her frail body much farther and jostling her. "I've lived in a world without you. I don't think I can do it again," he said with tears in his eyes.

"You will. Because you will do it for me."

Closing his eyes, he knew he had to do it now because it was her last wish. He laid down beside her on his side and stroked her cheek with his knuckles. "Then you must make me a promise."

Her brow furrowed the slightest bit.

"That you will be my mate before you leave me behind," he whispered and tears fell as he gazed into her eyes. "I know you're too weak, but we can lie together and watch the birds soar."

She searched his face in concern. "But if we mate, you will fade in a couple hundred years from the moment I fade."

His tear fell onto her shoulder. "I can't let you go again. You vowed that one day you would agree to be mine. I love you with my entire soul, Clarion, and I would rather have hours as yours than a lifetime without ever touching your light. You're the most beautiful and generous creature I have ever been blessed to see. Your intellect and wit astound me, and your smile melts my heart. I love all of your idiosyncrasies and the fact that you are amazingly graceful but can't skate to save your perfect little nose," he said with a soft smile and kissed the tip of it.

A watery laugh escaped her, and her eyes were a brilliant blue again for an instant.

"I imagine this is the worst proposal in history, but would you do me the incredible honor of becoming my mate, Clarion?" he asked with so much hope in his eyes.

Gazing into his heart, she knew that the next two hundred years would bring unfathomable pain to him, lived alone without joy or friendship. She knew that her final wish had damned him to centuries of anguish, in hopes that perhaps he would find love again. It was astronomically rare, but sometimes a widowed fairy could find love again and regain lifespan. This was her last hope to give him a life where he would feel love and joy again someday. She could not bring herself to deny him this final wish, this final piece of semi-happiness in his burdened life. Looking into his eyes, she whispered with the last bit of joy left in her heart, "It was a perfect proposal...I will, Milori."

His heartbroken smile brought tears to her eyes. He pulled off his clothes and carefully undressed her. Then he laid down beside her and held her in his arms. Their glows grew stronger, and she felt tingling in her chest around her heart.

"Dewey said it wasn't possible," he said in a thick voice as they looked up at the underside of the buttercups together and watched the birds fly overhead. "He said that glows could not bind without a full mating. Do you feel it, sweetheart? I never realized that I felt so empty before. I can feel your glow around my heart," he whispered in awe. Then he leaned up on his elbow and looked down at her in adoration.

Tears slipped out of the corner of her eyes, her body too weak to move anymore. "I feel it," she breathed. "Being the queen, I had everything a fairy could possibly want. But I dreamed of a love that would survive even Death. Ours will." A soft smile touched her lips. "I will always love you, Milori." And then her eyes slowly fluttered shut.

He could feel in her glow in him the cold and fear that engulfed her heart, and he knew she was lost to the darkness. "I'll love you forever," he whispered and held her limp body tight as he wept. It was only a matter of time before she would stop breathing too.

Tears fell as he dressed her and to take her back to the castle where he could bundle her in blankets when the cold would begin to seep into her. He carried her in his arms and walked her home-he wanted her to finish their last walk through spring together.


	36. Chapter 36

He laid her down in her bed and tucked the blankets around her. Being her mate, he could feel the darkness taking her as if it was claiming his own body. Sitting down on the bed, he held her hand in case she was somewhat conscious and scared. Then he slowly started singing the song they had written to each other.

Spruce was sitting in the corner, having waited for them to come back because he knew she was close to death. He quietly wept at the tender scene when Milori sang to her, watching his friend's heart break so completely. When Milori finished the song, Spruce walked over to lay a hand of comfort on his back.

"Does she hurt?" Milori croaked through his quiet sobs.

"I don't think so. Do you want me to give her pain medicine?" He brushed at his eyes.

He nodded, not looking away from her beautiful face. At least in this light she didn't look so gray and ill. He wanted to remember her healthy and laughing, but he knew these memories of her being so ill would haunt him for the rest of his days.

Spruce leaned down to inject her shoulder and then stopped. "Milori?" He asked slowly. "Her glow is stronger. Did you mate?" he asked in horror.

Kissing her brow, he ignored Spruce. He wouldn't let anything ruin the precious memory of binding their lights.

"You might get the poison too. This Alamur sugar destroys our sugar, which thrives on happiness and kindness. It drains all love from a heart to leave depression and anger. It is the most horrible way for a fairy to die. Why would you risk yourself...?!" He closed his mouth, seemingly rethinking his words.

"Because I love her," he whispered with tears in his eyes, still gazing at her. "Because if she is to be lost to the darkness, I wanted her to know a moment of love from me deeper than she has ever felt. Even if the price is my life, I would do it again for her in a heartbeat." This soft evening light was so beautiful on her, lending its rosiness to her skin.

Spruce touched her brow and then pulled out a syringe and started drawing sugar.

"No, don't make her hurt more. There's no point, and you damn well aren't going to experiment on her," he snarled. He started to reach over to withdraw the syringe.

"It does have a point when her color is returning."

Milori froze. "No, it's the light," he whispered, refusing to let his hopes soar.

Spruce ran a fast-result test and also looked at her sugar under a microscope he had brought along. "Uh, no. Her organs are gaining function." He turned and stared at Milori. "Give me your arm. We have to make sure you didn't take the poison for her by mating," he said urgently.

He startled when her wings started flapping, pushing her onto her side. A loud gasp escaped her and her eyes shot open. She started screaming.

He grabbed her so she wouldn't get hurt, his first thought being she was going mad. But then she looked at him, her eyes filled with terror, and stilled.

"Milori?" she whimpered.

The shock of seeing her awake rendered him speechless.

"Is it really you?" she sniffled with tears in her eyes. Her trembling hand reached up to touch his cheek. "There were so many Alamur. They tried to hurt me," she whispered. Then her eyes rolled back and she went limp.

Spruce swore and ran over.

"What's happening?" Milori gasped in shock, staring at her.

Spruce's eyes slowly met his. "She's trying to come back to you." He shoved Milori closer to her. "Whatever you did before, do it again," he urged and drew some of Milori's sugar.

Milori had no idea what he had done that had worked, so he climbed on the bed to hold her in his arms. "Clarion, come back," he begged with tears streaming down his face. "I love you. Fight them, sweetheart. I'm right here. Find your way back to me." He stroked her cheek. "Did I tell you the first of the many times I wanted to propose? It was when we were in spring that first time and you were showing me fireflies. Their glows danced in your eyes, and you were so incredibly beautiful. The wonder on your face captured my heart. I wish I had dropped to my knee and asked you then, sweetheart. Even after all the time we were apart, when I came back to help you with the freeze and the Pixie Tree, it was as if I had only been gone a moment in time. I had forgotten what it was like to feel the love and joy that surrounds you. I came alive again, sweetheart. Our love has faced so many trials, and I know it has been a whirlwind of hardships...but I would not trade any of it for a second because I love you more each day, even when I think it isn't possible to find more love in my heart. You make me a better soul, sweetheart. I know I didn't give you the mating you deserve or dreamed of, but it was the most amazing moment of my life." He cradled her against him and couldn't stop the sobs. "Because our hearts flew together in that moment when time stood still for us," he whispered.

She was still, no longer breathing.

He held her, rocking her on the bed in his arms and sobs coming from his soul. He felt her light leave his heart, suddenly so void inside that he was sure his own heart had stopped beating. The anguish and grief was impossibly profound, and he felt part of his soul tearing away with her light. No one ever spoke of this physical torture upon losing a mate. He couldn't breathe. And he welcomed it.

"Milori?" Spruce said nervously. "Milori!"

He felt his breath leave his lips and he started to slouch over her body. But he kept hold of her hand as his heart stopped beating.

"No! Milori!" Spruce screamed.


	37. Chapter 37

He felt burning heat in his chest and gasped in pain. Opening his eyes, he could barely see past the blinding white light to see Clarion under him on the bed. Her chest was radiating light, and he looked down to see his doing the same. Afraid she was hurting as much as him, he tried to get up off of her. In the process, his chest moved closer and the light grew stronger.

She gasped and opened her eyes.

He stared down at her in shock, leaning on his hands and knees above her.

"You got Alamur sugar," she said softly, her eyes shimmering with tears. Wrapping her hands around his neck, she pulled him down on top of her. "Stay," she whispered softly and wrapped her arms around him.

"Clarion?" he croaked, not believing his eyes, and wrapped his arms around her.

"It's going to get hot, but I promise you'll be alright," she whispered in his ear.

The bright light turned blinding, and he cried out in pain as his heart began burning within his chest. He held onto her tight, fearing she was being hurt. When he tried to reach between them to feel her, she panted through pain in his ear, "It's healing us."

Suddenly, there was a brilliant flash of pink light and the pain was replaced by a wave of cool relaxation throughout his body. She released her grip on him and he leaned up on his elbows to look at her in shock.

Tears ran down from the corners of her eyes. "We mated, didn't we? Lights cannot bind like that to heal without mating."

He slowly nodded. "Don't you remember?"

She slowly shook her head. "I remember hearing you speak in a field of flowers, but I don't remember anything else."

"What the hell was that?" Spruce asked.

She was sitting up in bed and curled up with his arm around her minutes later after Spruce had found nothing wrong with her or Milori.

"I felt so full of anger and loneliness, but I could hear you," she told Milori, looking up in his eyes and trying to figure out what had happened. "I remember not breathing, but I could still hear you. The more you spoke, the more I felt love pushing away the evil. I don't remember what else happened before I woke up and saw you," she said with wonder and reached up to touch his cheek.

"I don't understand it," Spruce said with a shake of his head. "But it looks like mating saved you."

She smiled and shook her head, gazing up at Milori. "No, I think it was his love."

He bent his head down and brushed a kiss over her lips. "I love you," he said huskily as if looking at her for the first time.

She blushed, wrapped her arm around his torso and leaned her cheek on his chest. "I love you." This feeling of giddiness was new to her, and she didn't quite understand it but relished in it all the same.

"Well, someone had better announce the Queen isn't dead," Spruce interrupted. "I need a drink," he said, still in a daze and walked out.

Milori smiled down at her. "Well, wife, shall we go make the announcement?"

"Wife?" she asked in confusion.

"It's what humans call a mate. I think it sounds prettier than 'mate,'" he smiled tenderly.

She blushed. "Alright, wife," she smiled.

He burst out laughing. "No, sweetheart. A male is 'husband.'"

"Oh. Then come on, husband." She beamed and slipped out of bed and let down her hair to start brushing out the knots.

He got up and walked up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist and nuzzle her neck. "Or we could stay here for a few minutes." He swept aside her hair and kissed her neck.

"Milori," she scolded in embarrassment.

"Alright," he sighed and let go to brush her hair for her. "But they will notice your wings are sparkling brighter. And there is that little detail that we must sleep in the same home now," he smiled.

She stepped forward away from him a bit and started braiding her hair, keeping her back to him.

"Sweetheart, I didn't mean to make you upset. I thought you'd smile and tease me," he apologized.

Swallowing hard, she didn't know how to tell him.

He stepped around and held her shoulders gently, bending his head down to catch her eye. "What's wrong?"

Looking into his eyes, she kept her mouth shut and tried to figure out the words.

"You really don't remember mating, do you?" he asked quietly, trying to hide the hurt.

"I believe you, and we obviously did...I just...I'm not ready for you to see my scars again. And to me it feels like we aren't exactly mated." She saw the sadness in his eyes. "I'm sorry, that sounds harsh..."

He shook his head. "No, it's not fair to you to push for something that you can't even remember. First off, let me say that I was so terrified of you dying that I didn't even notice your scars. Second, this might be a good thing because I can propose to you how you deserve."

She laid her hands on his chest quickly. "No, it's not that I think you did it wrong or something."

"I know," he said in understanding and wrapped his arms around her. "We'll work on building our home. I want you to be able to remember me proposing and us mating. We didn't mate in the traditional sense, just so you know," he explained gently.

"Well, I sort of figured you wouldn't when I was half dead," she teased.

He didn't find her joke funny.

He led her outside with his arm around her waist protectively.

The fairies, who had all been weeping, stared at them. And then a roar of cheers erupted. The crowd swarmed to her with hugs, and Milori was pushed away from her.

"Be careful with her!" he said in concern.

She looked up over everyone's heads and smiled at him, unsure what to do.

He simply smiled and found a seat on a boulder to watch her.

Turning her attention to the crowd, she accepted hugs, kisses, flowers and well wishes.

When Mary pushed her way forward, she stared up at Clarion with tears in her eyes. "Oh, Clarion, your eyes sparkle. He asked you," she said with so much joy. Then she pulled Clarion's arm until she bent down, and Mary planted a kiss on her cheek. "I'm so happy for you," she whispered.

Clarion wrapped her arms around her and wept tears of joy.

After she had been touched by probably every fairy in the land, Clarion made her way through the crowd to Milori. He climbed down and brushed a kiss over her lips. "Tired?" he asked in concern.

She smiled and shook her head. Then she turned to the crowd, holding his hand. "Fairies," she said in a voice clear and strong that could not disguise the joy in her heart. "Today brings me great joy in so many ways...Welcome your Lord of Pixie Hollow." She turned to him with the most brilliant smile. The crowd went wild.

He looked at her in surprise. He knew he wouldn't be king, but it had never occurred to him that he wouldn't be just the Lord of Winter but inherit lordship of both kingdoms. The crowd surged forward and, this time, Clarion stood back with a proud smile as the fairies welcomed him.


	38. Chapter 38

There was celebrating and honey nectar flowing throughout Pixie Hollow that night. Torches were lit to keep away the bats and hawks.

Tink had secretly asked Milori if she could throw a celebration in winter in honor of their mating for the next day. She had pulled him aside while Clarion was busy talking with friends and shown him how she, Peri and Gliss had mastered frosting warm fairy wings. He had drilled her, Spruce and Dewey to make sure it was safe. Consensus was a celebration would be thrown tomorrow, and Tink had been more than happy when Milori had let her make the announcement. Clarion, however, looked a bit shocked.

He wound his way through the crowd, slightly frustrated that he was getting the least time with her, and set a hand on the small of her back just as she finished accepting congratulations from his Minister of Winter, who was a bit shocked herself at the news.

Clarion turned around in surprise. "Oh, it's you," she sighed.

He wasn't sure what to make of that comment until she leaned against him as if exhausted. He slipped his arm around her small waist. "Do you want to go home?" he asked quietly under the music some fairies had started playing to begin some dancing.

She looked up at him. "Do you?"

"I'll go wherever you do. If you're tired, we should go to bed."

"I'm not tired physically. It just feels like a lot to take in. This morning I was dying from Alamur sugar and now we're mated and here." She ran her hand over her forehead as if a bit distressed.

He took her hand and guided her away from the crowd and noise. Then he turned to her and helped her sit on a log. He sat beside her and held her hand. "Tell me what you need, sweetheart. Don't worry about what I'll think or what they'll think. What do you want to do?"

She met his gentle eyes. "I want a hot bath and a good novel," she said honestly. But then she started to cry. "But it's our first night together, and I shouldn't want to be alone." She buried her face in her hand.

"Clarion," he said gently and wrapped his arms around her. "I know it's a lot to take in so suddenly. It's alright that you want some time to relax. We can take things slow."

 

"You're not upset?" she sniffled and looked up at him.

"Well," he said with a slight smile on his lips. "It's a little bit of an ego blow to find out I'm not a hot stud you're falling all over yourself for," he teased.

Her face crumpled and the waterworks really started.

"Whoa, sweetheart, I was teasing," he cooed and brushed loose strands of hair away from her face as she wept into her hands. "I'm sorry, love. I thought you'd laugh at my stupid joke. Come here." He scooped her into his arms. "Let's go find that bubble bath, sweetheart."

She calmed down once he had a bath and book ready for her at the castle, with her nightdress laid out on the counter.

He stepped back with his hands on his hips and surveyed his handy work. "There. I'm not too sure what a bubble bath entails, but I think I have you started." He turned to see her soft, hiccuping tears subsiding. "Now, do you want me in the bedroom or just some time here alone?"

She looked up at him with big eyes.

A soft smile crinkled his eyes. "Alright. I'll go back to the party for a couple hours. Thomas and the guards are in the hall, and your windows are locked. Do you need anything else?"

"I'm sorry," she said softly and looked at him through tear-stained lashes.

He cupped her cheek and gazed into her eyes. "There is nothing to be sorry for, love. I think this will be good for us to slow things down. I'm a bit in shock still myself." He brushed a kiss over her lips, not wanting to press her too far for affection right now. "Relax and I'll be back in awhile." Then he gave her a smile and closed the door.

She sank into the hot tub and closed her eyes, feeling so much better already with the peace and quiet.

He enjoyed talking to friends and meeting more of Clarion's fairies...his fairies, he mentally corrected himself. But his mind was on his wife and worried if she was doing alright after her meltdown.

"Where's your lovely mate?" Spruce asked and threw his arm around Milori's neck.

Milori was jerked down a bit and he frowned. "You're almost three sheets to the wind, my friend."

Spruce laughed. "That I am! A hell of a day."

"Where's Lilly?" he frowned and his eyes searched the crowd.

"We had an argument, and now she's flirting with some warm bastard fairy," he slurred.

Milori followed to where he pointed. "Oh, that's Terence. He's with Tinkerbell. You don't need to worry about anything actually happening. Perhaps she wants you to go swooping in and be all possessive. Young females like that kind of thing, you know. But you have to do it so it doesn't look like you're controlling."

Spruce looked at him funny.

"Come. You need lots of coffee bean juice to sober you up." Milori grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bar.

Spruce thew up what honey nectar was left in his stomach, behind a boulder a bit away from the party.

Milori clapped him on the back. "Good job. Now, is that coffee juice working?"

He held his pounding head. "I feel completely hung over," Spruce groaned.

"That's why I made you drink half a thimble of water. Now, are you ready to go get your girl?" He sipped on his mug of honey nectar, his eyes on the party. He could see Lilly looking around to see if Spruce was still watching her.

"Are you mad? I'll probably heave all over her." He spun around and heaved again behind the boulder.

Milori sighed. "You really shouldn't drink so much."

Spruce flipped his finger at Milori as he heaved again.

Milori chuckled and waited for Spruce's stomach to calm down.

Sleet peeked into the hospital room to see Silvermist sitting on the bed in her clothes with her arm wrapped in leaves. He cleared his throat and stepped in.

Her eyes flew up and she visibly tensed.

"Don't be frightened," he rasped and marched forward to her, bringing his arm out from behind his back to shove a bouquet of flowers at her.

The flowers were practically in her face, and she sneezed.

"Oh. I'm sorry." He reached to grab her a tissue off the counter, but he bumped the bed, making her cry out in pain having her broken limp jostled. He straightened and turned. "I...Are...I'm sorry, I'll go." He spun around and quickly went to the door.

"Did you try to hurt me this afternoon?"

He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to look at her. "I'm not gentle and I'm not patient. I keep to myself, and I don't remember anymore how to be a friend. I don't remember how to be careful with a female," he said quietly, slowly stepping closer. "It had been years since I had told someone I'm sorry...until today. Now those seem to be the only words I can say to you."

She cocked her head and studied him. "Why are you here?"

He swallowed uncomfortably and looked away. "I wanted to make sure you're alright."

"An Alamur doesn't care about others," she stated simply.

A bitter smile crossed his lips. "I don't fit in with the Alamur and I don't want to. But I don't fit in with Bright Fairies either," he said sadly. Then he gave her a slight bow and walked to the door.

"Wait!"

He turned.

"I'm not the Queen," she frowned. "You don't need to bow to me."

"No, but it's the least manners I can show you after breaking your arm and botching everything else," he frowned.

"Do you want to stay? I'm still waiting for a cast," she offered with a slight smile. "I told my friends to go on to the party because the healer said two hours ago it would be just another thirty minutes. I don't really like hospitals." Her eyes darted around as if checking that she couldn't be overheard. Then she whispered, "Ghosts scare me."

"Ghosts?" he frowned in confusion.

"You know...whoooooooooo," she mimicked with wide eyes. "Fairies die here sometimes and probably turn into ghosts."

His eyebrows shot up. Never had he heard of such a stupid thing. And never had it endeared him more. He sat down in the chair beside her bed.

Clarion was tucked in bed with her firefly turned on and sitting on the nightstand to give her reading light.

The door opened and Milori peeked in. "May I come in now?" he smiled.

She gave a soft smile and nodded, setting her book aside.

He walked in and started pulling off his tunic. "I'm going to wash. Rosetta got a little too happy with her flower air fragrance for the party," he smiled but stopped beside the bed. "Are you doing alright?"

She nodded and then held her nose. "Oh my. Go wash. Please," she laughed.

He laughed and shut the door.

He hummed as he showered, and she was surprised at how deep and smooth his baritone was. She shouldn't have been surprised because he was good at everything he did.

The door cracked open and he peeked his head out, his skin still damp. "Um, sweetheart?"

"Hm?" She turned to her left and leaned forward to look at him, with the door being on the same wall as the headboard.

"I didn't think to bring extra clothes," he winced. "Any chance you have detergent here so I could wash my pants in the sink?"

She giggled and climbed out of bed to pull on her robe. "I'll go get some."

"Thank you!" he called.

She returned and knocked on the washroom door.

He opened it a bit and reached around for the jug from behind the door. "Thank you, love."

"No, two hands. I could only find the big one in the washing room downstairs," she grunted.

"Set it down and I'll grab it. Your towels are a bit small."

"Oh, alright." She set it down and stood.

He stepped around the door wearing nothing. They both froze for a second and then he jumped back behind the door. "I'm sorry. I thought you meant 'alright' like it was safe to get it." The utter embarrassment was tangible in his voice.

She spun around and dove back in bed, throwing the covers over her head. "Get it!"

The door closed a second later.

"Ninny," she whispered, scolding herself under the covers. "He's your mate, and it's not as if you didn't see a male naked in the war hospital." She hadn't really gotten a good look, but she did see enough to know that his thighs were deliciously well muscled and his hips were leaner than she had expected. All in all, he was an amazing male specimen. She felt a pool of heat low in her belly and wasn't naive enough to not realize she desired him. "Stop being a wuss," she told herself.

Throwing the covers off of her head, she was mortified to see him standing there with his hands on his hips. And a grin on his face.

"How long have you been there?" she demanded.

"I must say, I'm a bit disappointed that I'm not your first encounter with a male," he frowned.

She groaned and pulled the covers back over her head.

The bed jostled slightly and he leaned over her to pull the blankets down. "It's not as if we aren't mated and aren't mature adult fairies," he smiled and kissed her cheek.

She peeked her finger out from under the covers to point at him. "No, you are mated. I have practically no recollection. You could be making it up for all I know." Then she gasped and sat up, forcing him to sit back or bump noses. "You lied! We can't be mated without being in flight and you having your way!" She wasn't truly upset, but she did want answers.

He blinked and a look of panic flashed across his face. "I swear I didn't. I wouldn't take you when you're dying!"

She cocked her head slightly and raised her eyebrows. "Then how are we mated."

"I don't know!" He threw his hands out before him, gesturing as he tried to explain. "I didn't even know if I could mate at all. Dewey said it wasn't possible for any kind of mating to happen just being together and baring souls, but it happened! I don't know how it happened or if we're mated a hundred percent, but something happened! You said yourself that our lights couldn't bind like that to heal if we weren't mated!" he cried, a bit panicked by what she thought happened. Then he stilled and his brow slowly furrowed and his eyes squinted accusingly. "Wait, why do you think I'd take advantage of you. I'm not going to try to...when you're on your deathbed," he scoffed.

She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her laugh. "I'm sorry. I'm not actually that upset because it's not as if we didn't plan on mating someday. I just never imagined a shotgun mating." She knew she was overtired and emotionally drained when she started laughing harder.

He crossed his arms over his chest and didn't look amused.

She set her hand on his corded arm. "I know you wouldn't normally take me like that, but I didn't know if you thought it was the only way to save me. Well..." she said, thinking out loud. "It is a bit morbid to mate with someone on her deathbed." Her eyes focused back on him. "But I suppose I'd understand if it was to save me."

"Well, I didn't," he said briskly and got up to grab a bucket and start hauling water into the gourd that was still in her room for him to make his ice bed.

"Milori, don't be offend," she said, starting to realize that the conversation wasn't as lighthearted as she had thought.

The water faucet in the washroom slammed off and he marched out with a pale and dumped it in the gourd. "I don't really find it amusing on any level that you would even tease about me doing that." He spun around and marched back into the washroom.

"Milori," she pleaded and got up to follow him.

He spun on her in the washroom. "Don't! You have died in my arms twice!" he snapped with tears in his eyes. Then he swallowed hard and turned away to fill the bucket again. "You don't understand how painful it is," he said quietly. "And I hope you never do."

She set her hand on his back and stepped up to the sink beside him, surprised to see tears rolling down his face. "I'm sorry, Milori. I didn't think before I opened my mouth." She kissed his muscled shoulder. "Don't weep," she said softly and gently turned him to face her. She hugged him.

He set the bucket on the counter and wrapped his arms around her. "This is so messed up," he whispered.

She pulled back to look up at him. "What is?"

"We should have a home, you remember mating, the proposal right, a bed that we both can sleep in...everything. This isn't what I wanted your first night of being mated to be like," he sighed.

"So we change it," she said simply. "It's only ten o'clock." She felt his brow to find it cold yet from the shower. "Come."

A bit later they were laughing and talking under her bed blankets in the dark.

"Then Lilly practically swooned when he kissed her. Poor Terence is so infatuated with Tinkerbell that he had no idea Lilly had been trying to flirt with him. Tinkerbell's face turned quite red, and I think Terence is probably still getting his ear chewed off," Milori laughed.

She was in hysterics.

"And guess who Sleet is falling for?" he chuckled, her laugh contagious.

"No! Sleet?" she gasped.

"Silvermist."

"What?" Her laughter instantly died. "Milori, she can't take someone as rough as him."

"Actually, her...let's say simplicity, for lack of a better word, seems to endear him. He went to see her at the hospital, I hear."

"The hospital? What?!"

"Calm down, love. She's alright." He relayed the story to her. "I think it might work, Clarion. He's so rough but she's so innocent. They actually make a nice match, I think."

"Oh, and you're Mr. Matchmaker?"

He rolled on top of her, the sheet still over their heads to keep it dark. "Are you complaining, my lady?" he asked huskily and kissed her neck. He ran his hands over her hips, trailing a little white dust.

She gasped with pleasure and tilted her head back for him to have better access to her neck. "No," she panted, suddenly caught up with the wonderful sensations his dust was sending through her body.

"No, who?" he asked and nibbled her ear. "Just it for me this once," he whispered, his breath cool on her neck. He glided his hand over her thigh where he knew it would drive her wild.

"No, my lord," she breathed and pulled him closer. Somehow submission to him thrilled her because he would take nothing but absolute care of her heart.

He rolled off of her suddenly.

"No," she panted. "You can't do that and then leave." She tried to pull him back over her.

"Not tonight, sweetheart. When we have a home," he smiled, pleased that she desired him.

"Ughhhh!" she groaned in frustration.

"Why on earth do you like skating so much?" she asked a bit later after they had resumed their conversation, enjoying having his arm around her shoulders in bed and resting her head on his shoulder while he laid on his back.

"It feels a bit like flying," he answered softly.

Her smile instantly died. "Do you miss it often?" she inquired gently, absently stroking his chest.

"I miss it the most when I see everyone so excited like when the freeze didn't harm the tree. I know you stayed on the ground because of me," he stated. "I don't want you to hold back, but it means a lot the times when you do wait for me. I know I slow you down. That day you ran through the fields to the cabin...I liked that because I could do it with you. I know you had to resist the urge to fly because it's a natural instinct to fly when you're happy, but I loved it so much, Clarion. I was so happy watching you that I felt like I had wings again," he said longingly.

She scooted up slightly and kissed his cheek. "You never slow me down. Let's run in the field again tomorrow."

He released a heavy sigh. "My leg doesn't hold out for that anymore."

The sadness in his voice broke her heart. "We will do therapy and exercises until we fix it enough," she promised.

"Speaking of therapy," he said reluctantly. "I have to go back again in a couple days."

"I'll come with you."

He laced his fingers with hers on his chest. "Actually, I was wondering if you'd come inside with me."

"I'll do whatever you want, honey." Then she yawned quietly.

"Time to go to sleep," he said and carefully slipped out from under her.

She caught his hand when he was sitting on the edge. "Can I sleep with you?"

"Love, you might get too cold," he said with regret.

"If I wear my cape and have blankets? I don't want to be away from you."

The innocence in her voice melted his heart. "We'll try it. If you feel cold during the night, I'm putting you back in bed."

He laid a leaf over her half of the ice so she wouldn't get wet as it melted under her, and then they piled blankets on the ice on her side. He climbed into the gourd that was oblong and skinny and helped her in. Then he tucked her in tight and laid his head on part of her long pillow, turning onto his side to face her in the moonlight. "Goodnight, sweetheart," he said softly, his eyes shining bright.

She smiled and tucked her hands covered in mittens under her chin, rolling onto her side to face him. "Goodnight, husband."

That brought a smile to his face.

They were silent.

"Go to sleep," he whispered.

"I'm not tired anymore," she giggled.

He laughed softly in his chest, the sound warm and deep. "Never when I was young did I think I'd hear the Queen giggle. I think I've heard it a hundred times tonight. You must sleep so you aren't tired for tomorrow. Before the party, let's go to Mary and start making plans for our house."

She smiled and snuggled into his arms. She knew in a few hours she'd be too cold and need to go back into her own bed, but right now in his arms was enough.


	39. Chapter 39

She woke up in her own bed, somehow not surprised that he had carried her over during the night. What did surprise her, however, was rolling over to find him in bed beside her. A smile split her lips and she looked at the clock to see it was mid-morning. Throwing her leg over his and draping herself half on him, she kissed his neck, enjoying the slight scratch from his five o'clock shadow.

He sighed in his sleep and rolled over to cuddle her.

She wrapped her arm around his back and started massaging his knotted muscles around his wings.

A groan escaped him. "It's cheating to wake me up with kisses and a massage," he said in a thick, sleepy voice.

She smiled and slipped out of his arms to roll him onto his stomach and really start working on his poor muscles.

"Oh, Neverland," he groaned into the pillow. "You're getting too good at this."

"Did you sleep good?"

"You're a bad bed hog, love," he mumbled and his voice trailed off.

"I'm sorry."

"I was up anyways," he said tiredly, with his eyes still closed.

"Why?"

"I have cycles where I can't sleep from nightmares," he mumbled and started to relax.

"About the war?"

He grunted and then was asleep a minute later.

She continued the massage, curiously noting his breathing grew deeper the more she loosened his back. "Or you can't sleep because your back is so tight," she said to herself. Then she carefully moved to his wing support frame and pressed on that spot under his broken wing. A weak sigh escaped him as if made in his sleep, and his entire body instantly relaxed so much that even his muscles felt soft under her hands. "Milori, why are you so stubborn about help?" she whispered sadly when she could now fully feel the joints that were swollen with arthritis. "Another couple hundred years and you'll have so much pain all day long."

He woke up a couple hours later to see her dressed and reading a large book at the windowseat. "Hello, slug-a-bed," she smiled and closed the book to get up.

He tried pushing himself up off his belly, but his shoulders and back felt so weak that his muscles trembled and he collapsed back on his stomach.

"Easy now." She came over with a large glass of water. "Here. Drink the full glass. I massaged your back. Spruce stopped by to check on me from yesterday, and he said I should have given you water before doing such deep massaging."

"Why?" he asked and took the glass to drink the contents.

She set the glass down on the nightstand and then helped him turn onto his back, running her hands down his arms. "He said that stimulating muscles that are so inactive could cause dehydration. He said your vessels might be relaxed too, so I'm supposed to rub your limbs to help keep your blood pressure from dropping when you get up so you don't faint."

"Whatever you did...my back hasn't felt this good since I was born," he said lazily. "I feel like I could sleep forever," he smiled sleepily.

He wasn't smiling when he had a terrible headache a bit later.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't realize a massage could do this," she fretted as they walked to the border to see if a dive in ice water would help.

"It's alright," he said, even though he had to squint because the sunlight seemed to incredibly bright and the birds chirping felt like nails grating.

"Will you be alright going in the water?"

"Yes."

"Are-"

"Sweetheart, no more talking. It feels like screaming," he said, holding his head.

She startled when he walked straight off the log bordering winter and autumn, dropping right into the river.

He popped up a moment later, and she forced herself to not coddle but stay back in fall as he climbed up the embankment into winter. "I have to go in colder water," he said and started to leave, not bothering to frost himself off.

"My lord!" Thomas called. "You can't go without guards!"

Milori turned and gave him a dry look. Then he continued walking.

"Lovely, he's going to be as difficult as you," Thomas sighed from beside her.

She smiled, her eyes on Milori as he disappeared into the trees. "He's your General, Thomas. He doesn't need looking after."

"He also can't fly."

Her back went ramrod straight, and she turned to look at him. "I trust that you will not bring up this issue with His Lordship," she said tightly, her eyes unyielding.

"I mean no disrespect, my Queen. It is simply fact, and he's without his owl over there. None of us are dressed for winter should he need assistance."

She clenched her jaw. "Then I suggest his guards keep winter clothes on their person in a bag or what have you."

"But-"

"You do not want to continue this conversation with me," she said, her voice filled with steel. "And I assure you it will not be a pleasant one to have with His Lordship."

"Yes, Your Highness," he said quietly and bowed his head.

She turned back to watch for Milori. And she knew that Thomas was right. Milori was more of a target now being her mate should any enemy invade. She only hoped that the further loss of his freedom wouldn't make him resent her.

He had returned from winter feeling better, but Clarion had been silent. Even when they had been working on blueprints for their new cabin with Mary, she clearly had her mind on something else.

"There need to be halls for guards," she suddenly said when they were discussing the bedrooms.

"What?" Milori asked in confusion.

Mary's eyes went wide, sensing a sensitive issue. "I'll go...sweep the storage room." She went inside the closet, leaving them alone in her office.

"Milori," she said carefully. "We're both high profile targets being mates now, and it would be wise to have guards near."

He looked at her suspiciously. "No, that's not it. When we built the other cabin, you weren't concerned about having guards." Then his brow suddenly smoothed and he sat back, realizing the issue. "My wing wasn't broken when we built the other cabin."

"That has nothing to do with it. We're older and wiser now, and guards make sense. The children should have extra protection."

"This is because of what Thomas said."

"What?"

"Being your mate, I can hear you from farther away. I thought you meant what you said and were standing up for me. But you just didn't want to admit you don't feel safe with me." He got up and then turned. "I don't understand. Weeks ago when we were together again after the freeze you said Thomas told you that you didn't need guards if you were with me. Was that the truth?"

"Yes, it was," she said, desperately trying to get things back in perspective. "You're almost like a king now and make a perfect target for an enemy. He's right that you need more protection." She stood and took his hand.

"I'm the General, Clarion," he said as if she didn't understand.

"And I'm the Queen. There is nothing wrong with having protection from those we care for. You don't always have to do the protecting, Milori."

His brow furrowed. "I'm capable of taking care of myself. I was a target for the Alamur, but I got us out of there! I led the army during the war."

"What is the issue?! Milori, it's for your safety. For our safety. For our children," she said, frustrated and losing patience.

"I have so little that I can do on my own, Clarion! I don't need babysitting!" he barked, getting agitated and stressed.

She should have seen the signs because the therapist had warned her to back off during an argument if it started to get out of control because him feeling cornered or helpless might remind him of being imprisoned and could trigger his PTSD. But she was frustrated and focused on the issue rather than what he was trying to say. "It's not babysitting! It's keeping you safe!"

"Just stop! I don't need guards to hold my hand! I don't need extra protection!" he barked.

"Yes, you do!"

"Why?!"

"Because you're crippled!"

His eyes were wide and he took a step back as if she had slapped him.

She was so worked up that she didn't even realize what she had said until she saw his startled face. She froze, not believing she had said such a terrible thing.

His eyes searched hers in disbelief, the hurt sitting there on the surface of his face. Then he turned and walked out, softly shutting the door behind himself.

Mary stepped out of the closet slowly, her eyes wide too.

Clarion sank down into the chair, staring at the floor. "Oh Neverland, what did I just do?" she whispered with a hand over her mouth. "How do I convince him I didn't mean it?" Tears gathered in her eyes. "He refused to mate all those years ago because he thought he was crippled," she hiccuped, her tears spilling over. Then she looked at Mary. "How do I ever take that back?"


	40. Chapter 40

Clarion left the tinker shop and started searching for him. She knew that sending guards out to search would only infuriate him and make it seem like she really did think he was incompetent.

"Queen Clarion!" Tink waved her hand to get her attention when Clarion was flying toward the castle.

Clarion landed quickly, the guards not far behind.

"For the party this afternoon..."

"We need to move it," Clarion said.

"Oh."

"I'll talk to you later about figuring out another date," she said quickly and flew off.

He wasn't anywhere. After another hour of searching, she had Sled start looking in winter. Milori would be furious. But she started to fear that something had happened when everyone denied seeing him.

He sat in the grass with Spruce at the site of his and Clarion's old cabin.

"I hate to break it to you, but you are crippled from a fairy perspective," Spruce said gently.

"That's not the point. The point is she has always said I wasn't crippled to her. I thought she trained Mountain to help me get some freedom back, not because she was ashamed," he said dejectedly.

Spruce laid down in the snow and folded his hands behind his head to look up at the clear sky. "You know she's not ashamed."

Milori stood and began pacing through the snow, his eyes on the ground. "But she must really think it. To say it during a fight must be what she really feels."

"Anyone says anything during a fight, it doesn't mean it's real. Emotions run high, Milori. You're a mated male now, and fights will happen. You two have faced so many other trials that you haven't really had to face one between you in centuries. Remember how you used to bicker? It will turn into fights because you're together all of the time being mated now."

"You make mating sound like a bad thing," he frowned at Spruce as he paced.

"It's just a fact. I am perfectly content to just court Lilly."

"Is she content?" he asked dryly.

He heaved a sigh. "She's starting to hint," he groaned.

"Don't you want to be a mate?"

"It's way too soon. We just met a few weeks ago. I never understood those fairies who meet their mate and then rush into mating after just a few weeks. Of course it's the right fairy, but you have to make sure everything is set up and you're emotionally ready to take that step. It shouldn't be a shotgun mating," he said with his eyes closed as he basked in the winter sun.

Milori stilled. "A shotgun mating?" he repeated quietly, remembering those were the words Clarion had used referencing their own mating. He started pacing faster. He had to admit that if she hadn't been dying, he wouldn't have proposed that day or even that week. There were so many things that they hadn't talked about, and he realized they were headed for a downward spiral because they had rushed into mating. She had expressed yesterday that it felt so sudden, and she clearly had been embarrassed when she had seen him undressed. A wife who wanted to be mated would run toward her naked husband, not away, he thought with a broken heart. His pacing slowed and he finally stilled. He had done exactly what she had accused him of—he had taken advantage of her when she was dying, although not in the sense she had implied. But she had practically no recollection of the proposal and probably hadn't been in her right mind when he had asked.

"Spruce?" he asked quietly, staring at the ground without seeing it.

He grunted.

"How long can mates be away from each other without causing harm to their lights?"

Spruce sat up and looked at Milori carefully. "I'm not sure I should answer that. What are you thinking?"

"How long?" he asked without emotion.

"Three days. During the war, it seemed to stretch to seven or eight, but I think that was because they were in separate lands. Milori, you're not thinking of leaving Pixie Hollow, are you?" He stood and walked over to him. "It's just an argument. I'm sure she didn't mean it."

His eyes traveled up to Spruce's face. "It was a shotgun mating," he whispered, his heart breaking. "She doesn't even remember the proposal or mating, Spruce. I asked her when she was practically dead. She's trapped in something she doesn't want right now."

Spruce searched his eyes. "Milori, stop it. You're having self-confidence issues or something from the PTSD. Let's go for a run. Exercise helps with PTSD," he pleaded, his face full of worry.

"My leg can't tolerate running," he said quietly, his heart clearly breaking from everything. "She's the Queen! What the hell is she doing with me!"

Spruce grabbed his arms. "Look at me. We're going for a swim," he said firmly.

Milori was still doing the breast stroke in a South Woods lake that was nearly as long as the warm seasons village. Spruce had tired out ten laps ago and sat on the ice with his feet in the water.

Clarion spotted them and had the guards hold back as she walked over to Spruce and sat down. Milori was on the other side of the water, swimming strong as if he was still upset.

"He's done twenty laps without breaking pace," Spruce said quietly with his eyes on Milori, not surprised by her sudden presence.

She looked at him with wide eyes.

"His PTSD started acting up. Exercise is supposed to help, so I told him we were going to swim. He's terribly upset. You really need to talk to him."

"I've been looking for him for nearly three hours," she said softly, not wanting to interrupt Milori before he was ready.

"You cannot upset him like that. I know emotions and things get flying during arguments, but sometimes you need to help him figure out when to put on the breaks and walk away for a bit." His voice was gentle, but she knew by his words that he was upset with her.

"I know," she replied quietly with shame. "I'm going to slip up sometimes, especially when I'm still learning his signs."

"He's responsible too. I'm not preaching because Neverland knows I don't always have constructive arguments with Lilly, but you just have to listen to each other."

Milori got out of the water half way back and frosted off.

She stood, realizing he had heard them talking. "Thank you, Spruce."

He nodded and then flew over to Milori.

She stood back while they said goodbye and then headed over after Spruce left. Milori had just finished frosting himself when she reached him.

"You shouldn't be in winter," was the only thing he said to her when he turned around.

She looked up at him to see his face impassive but his eyes full of pain. He started walking past, but she grabbed his hand to stop him. Cupping his face in her hands, she looked into his eyes. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, tears coming to her own eyes for having hurt him so deeply.

He swallowed hard and took a step back. "I think we need time apart."

Her hands fell to her sides, and she felt herself pale so fast that she felt dizzy. "What?" she breathed in shock. She swayed a bit.

He held her elbow and guided her to sit when she went impossibly white. He waved over Sled, who had been passing by. "Take her back to the warm seasons," he instructed.

She looked at Milori quickly when Sled picked her up and was ready to fly her back.

"I have to walk back," he said simply, so humiliated today that it didn't even bother him anymore to say it or have to hand over his wife to a fairy who wasn't crippled.

"No, I'm fine," she protested and started trying to get down.

He held up his hand, signaling her to stop, and then turned away to start walking back to the border.

She stilled and watched his back with huge eyes. In that moment, she realized he was so hurt he couldn't even stand to be around her.

Sled took her to the border and then set her down. He left after she thanked him, probably sensing something private was going on.

She paced nervously waiting for Milori to arrive. She had no idea what was going on and no idea how to get through to him.

It took forever for him to arrive. And he came too soon. She was afraid, with that terrible lump in her stomach like she had that one night so many centuries ago.

She didn't come to him. In fact, she stayed back a bit. He had expected in private she might be more open and let him see what she was thinking, but apparently she wasn't as opposed to their separation as he had originally thought. Maybe she had paled because she was relieved.

She didn't know what one could say to someone who, at the moment, almost despised you. A thousand different things to say ran through her head, and she tried to figure out which one might make him believe her that she didn't care about his disability.

Apparently she had no intent of saying anything, so he cleared the lump in his throat and focused his eyes on the grass. "Spruce says it's safe to be separated for three days, possibly longer. I'll come in three nights and sleep somewhere in the castle. He said we just need to spend a night under the same roof so your light won't begin fading."

Her wide eyes searched his face and a single tear rolled down her cheek. She stared at him in disbelief, having no idea how this was happening.

He didn't look at her because it was easier to not see relief in her eyes, not having to be stuck with him constantly when she resented him mating her. "Tell everyone I'm ill or something and need to be in winter." Then he turned and walked away.

She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her head was screaming for her feet to move, but they remained anchored to the ground. Her chest was heaving so hard it hurt to breathe. Watching him get on Blizzard and then take to the sky, the only thing she was able to do was let the tears roll down her face. It was like a horrible nightmare where she was powerless to speak or move. His glow around her heart started to hurt, and she knew he was sealing off his heart from her. And then she felt empty and realized he had left the lands of Pixie Hollow. A shaking hand covered her mouth to muffle her sobs. Her legs collapsed and she landed hard on her hands and knees. Her forehead touched the grass as she wept. She grasped handfuls of grass just to have something to hold because there was no husband to hold onto who would chase away this nightmare.


	41. Chapter 41

It had been a week since she had seen or heard from him. But she knew he had returned to the castle on the third night because her glow felt stronger again the next day...but she also knew he had already left when the feeling of emptiness in her heart remained.

She went through the days in a daze and relied heavily on the ministers to help her remember what duties she needed to do. Somehow word spread that Milori was ill within the castle. Spruce, bless his heart, acted as if he was attending to Milori when questions were raised before Clarion even knew of the rumors.

"This is it, isn't it?" she asked Spruce one night when he was in her chambers pretending to be attending to Milori. "I destroyed a future with him, and now he's living in a different land," she said quietly, staring at the floor from where she sat in the window seat. "The next six hundred years will be without him."

"I'm hoping he just needs time, Clarion. What you said was not bad enough to cause a separation," he said gently.

Holding her forehead, she met his eyes and her face crumpled. "I don't even know where he is to apologize. It's just this," she whimpered, "...him thinking I'm ashamed of him and me going crazy every day trying to find him."

"Perhaps stop looking," he offered and walked over to set his hand on her back. "He doesn't want to be found, so let him come to you. He has to return at least once a week. Eventually he won't be able to resist not seeing you. He loves you too much to just sever things."

"He did it before for more than three hundred years," she whispered.

The pain was too much to stand any longer, so she got up to start her nightly wandering of the castle. After four o'clock in the morning, she was usually tired enough to sleep for a couple hours and not dream of him. The nightmare was always the same-her trying to scream for him to stop and to run to him as he walked away. No matter how hard she tried, she wasn't able to do more than blink. The irony was it wasn't a nightmare-it was a memory.

She wandered the halls aimlessly, trying to count the doorways to keep from thinking of the night he had left. When she turned down another hall lined with guards, the door to the back balcony caught her eye as an escape to some fresh air. Slipping through, she slowly took the stairs up, remembering the last time she had been here was when Milori had been sent off to war. Wrapping her arms around herself to keep the ghosts at bay, she stepped out. And stumbled back a couple steps in surprise.

He stood there at the railing with his back to her.

For some reason, the first thought into her head was she had memorized him perfectly for the centuries he had been gone, but after only a week this time, it was like she was seeing him for the first time. Her heart, she noticed, felt full again. And it didn't hurt like when he had closed off his heart to her a week ago. When he slowly turned, he looked calm and strong, yet nervous and vulnerable.

"I wondered if you came up here anymore," he said quietly.

"I was busy thinking and didn't realize you were here," she said and turned to leave.

"May we talk for a minute?"

She spun around. "What?"

He leaned back against the railing. "Just let me say this then."

Her brow furrowed, confused by his choice of words.

"I'm sorry that I trapped you into mating. I'll come weekly to make sure your light doesn't fade, but you don't have to worry about me bothering you," he said quietly.

She swallowed hard, not blaming him for being so cold. "I'm sorry for what I said, and I don't blame you for hating me," she said, the shame preventing her from meeting his eyes.

"Hating you?"

Slowly looking up, she said, "I thought you severed the mating because...I don't understand, I did something else?"

The pure confusion and pain in her eyes made his eyes widen slightly. She was blaming herself. "I thought you didn't want to be mated. I..." he started to say in bafflement.

A sob escaped her, no longer being able to hold back the pain. She covered her mouth with her hand to muffle it. "I don't ever expect you to forgive me."

He surged forward and wrapped his arms around her, cradling her against his chest. "I didn't leave because of what you said. Between that and you saying it felt like a shotgun mating, I thought you resented me."

She shook her head against his chest. "I want to take it slow like you said. It's just all so fast. But your wing doesn't bother me." She pulled back to look up at him. "I know you don't want to hear it, but I worry about you because of your wing. Being my mate makes things more dangerous for you."

"I know," he sighed. "It took me a day or two to believe that's what you meant. I didn't...oh, Clarion, I shouldn't have left."

Her arms wrapped around him tighter. "Come home," she whispered. He was silent for a moment, and she pulled back to look at him.

His amber eyes were gentle, but the shame was there. "I've been seeing Rufus daily," he said softly. "Things started spiraling out of control the day after we mated."

Reaching up, she softly stroked his cheek and looked into his eyes. She could feel it in his glow that he was struggling to let her in. His arms started to loosen around her, but she reached behind her back and held his forearms there as she looked up at him with love. She let her actions speak to his heart in a way that words never could.

Swallowing hard, he forced himself to stay. "The PTSD is worse, and we don't know why," he said softly. "I'm barely sleeping anymore, I'm trying to push everyone away-"

A door slammed somewhere nearby in the castle, and he startled so hard that she startled. Closing his eyes, his entire body was tense-even the tendons in his neck were visible. His chest heaved deep breaths in and out.

Her arms wrapped around him, and she gently started to sway him ever so slightly as if they were dancing. She had been burying her nose in books about PTSD from Rufus and had read that sometimes the movement had a calming effect, sometimes it had to be a visual stimulation of left to right movement to stop the mind from locking up with the memories. He slowly relaxed in her arms and she slowed the movement. When he opened his eyes, they were still. He seemed to have not even realized what she had done because he continued speaking.

"And random things are triggering memories," he finished quietly with shame. "He thinks that I need to deal with this first before coming back because it'll damage us."

"What do you want to do?"

His eyes searched hers. "You shouldn't be dragged into it."

"That wasn't my question, Milori," she replied gently.

He sighed deeply and looked away for a moment. "It's harder being away from you. I don't think I should stay at the castle with you, but..."

A smile touched her lips. "I've missed you," she whispered.

Leaning down, he brushed a kiss over her lips.

She knew that right now the words were beyond him, but she would take his answer in any form of communication-it was in his kiss.

When he walked out of his therapy session a few days later, she stood up in the waiting room and was ready to leave with him like usual. Instead, they got outside and he stopped and turned to her, looking uncomfortable.

"What's wrong?"

Running a hand over his hair, he sighed in exasperation, "He wants me to take dance lessons."

"Sorry?" she blinked.

He met her eyes. "Dance Movement Therapy. He said it helps with anxiety, self-confidence and junk."

"Junk?" she asked with raised eyebrows, knowing he was being more self-conscious than judgmental.

He sighed and set his hands on his hips. "Really? Dance? It sounds like psycho babble."

She tried to hide her smile. "What kind of dance lessons?" she inquired, folding her hands behind her back with curiosity.

"Don't look cute at me like that. He says whatever kind feels right," he growled.

Stepping closer to him, she slipped her arms around his waist. "Try it a handful of times. Who knows, you might find it works," she smiled.

She wasn't sure why he wanted her to come a couple days later when he went to the dance school in the village, but she didn't mind waiting for him if it made him feel better.

He held her hand as he went to the reception desk. "We're here for the waltz class," he told the receptionist.

Clarion had been looking around the waiting room when she whipped her head around upon hearing his words. "We?" she panicked.

He looked over his shoulder at her with a smile. "You talked me into it; I'm not suffering alone," he winked.

It had been centuries since he had looked at her with that carefree, mischievous look that would melt any female's heart. "Alright," she sighed breathlessly, willing to give him anything he wanted in that moment.

When they were checked in, he led her to a couple chairs and pulled out a string of spider silk.

They were the only ones in the room, save for the receptionist who was busy polishing her nails, so she turned around, let him tuck down her wings and tie the string around her waist. "I have no idea how to dance. I don't dance. You owe me," she said, only half serious. "This had better be a private lesson," she told him over her shoulder.

"Group," he smiled and finished tying. Then he leaned over her shoulder from behind to whisper in her ear, "I didn't want any other partner."

That melted her heart too, and she turned to look up at him.

He took her hands and was gazing down at her, letting his guard down for an instant for the first time since he had started daily therapy.

Standing on her toes, she brushed a kiss over his lips.

She was terribly nervous, never having danced before, when the instructor told everyone to take a partner now that they had covered the basic steps individually. It was a beginner class, but she was sure she'd be the first student ever to be kicked out after only one class.

Milori smiled as the males stepped before their female partners and bowed. The females offered their hands and curtseyed. She glanced around out of the corners of her eyes. Everyone else looked natural and calm as the couples joined in dance holds. The instructor called out the steps, and she tripped herself once and wasn't keeping the right tempo. She watched her feet and felt her face begin to flame, embarrassed that she was an embarrassment to Milori. He was graceful and his steps were perfect, but she should have expected that because he was good at everything.

"I admit I have experience with ballroom dancing," he whispered.

"Oh good, so when I break your feet, it's not because you misstep," she replied, so tense she realized her nails were beginning to bite into his hand. She loosened her grip instantly.

"I haven't danced since my wing broke, so I might send us toppling," he said teasingly.

Her brow was furrowed watching his feet and trying to figure out what they were doing.

"Clarion," he said softly.

"Hm?" she grunted, still focused on their feet.

"Look at me."

"Right, and then we'll fall and break our wings. There's no music to even keep the beat," she whimpered.

"Trust me."

Something in his voice made her look up into his eyes.

His gaze was warm and tender as he looked straight into her soul. She fell into his eyes, and everyone else in the room faded away. She suddenly noticed his arms were in a solid dance frame to support her and his hand held hers gently. His other hand, just under her shoulder blade, guided her with the slightest bit of pressure now and then. Her feet melted into his rhythm. She could feel him take a slightly quicker step with his right foot to compensate for his wing, but she subconsciously adapted to it. It became effortless to float around the room with him.

Everyone else had stopped and stepped back to watch the graceful couple, who clearly had a great deal of dancing experience together. Neither she nor Milori noticed everyone watching them-they were both only aware of each other. The burdens melted away from him as he gazed down at her, years fell off of him and his heart beat in time with hers. In her hundreds of years, never had Clarion seen anything more beautiful-so beautiful that he stole her breath away.

Never before had he touched clouds without wings.


	42. Chapter 42

Three months later, she was walking through the new cabin with Milori as Mary proudly gave them the tour.

It sat on a hill-that was taller than the Pixie Tree-with beautiful lilac bushes and a tree to shield it on the edge of spring and winter. The view of the seasons and village from the front porch were beautiful, and Mary promised that the sunset glows flowed in through the large living room window.

The cathedral ceiling and window surprised Clarion when they stepped inside.

"I thought perhaps it would be safer for the children to learn to fly in here instead of out in the open," Milori explained, his eyes taking in the beautiful wood beams that were positioned to allow for safe flight. "Beautiful work, Mary."

Mary blushed and giggled. "The furniture is all here, and Sled and Sleet said they'll help move it around if Clarion wants different arrangements."

"No, it's all perfect," she said, only half taking in the sofas, rugs, chairs, lamps ready for fireflies, and large stone fireplace. Her eyes were focused on the beautiful window and ceiling.

Then he looked at Clarion. "I imagine they might play up in the beams, so I had her design something that would be safe for them. Go look," he smiled.

She looked at him, wishing he could come too.

"You'll have to do the rescuing if they get stuck," he grinned.

His acceptance of his injury these past couple months still surprised her. The dance therapy was helping him heal by leaps and bounds, although it didn't work miracles. He still had nights when it was difficult to sleep, and he would still get startled if someone came up behind him without warning or if he heard anything sounding like the crack of a whip. Rufus said those things might go away in time, or perhaps this was the best things would get. She hoped that once they were living together she could help him sleep. But how much he was opening up to her was more progress than she had thought possible. Rufus said that the rapid healing was, in part, because Milori deeply wanted to have a healthy, strong relationship with her. Sometimes Milori still struggled with opening up, so Rufus had suggested he keep a journal because maybe it wouldn't feel so scary talking to paper. Milori had pushed himself one step farther-he would give the journal to her on the occasions when he would write in it, which was about three times a week. They would then sit down and discuss the issue together. They had an agreement now too that when they had an argument getting out of control, they would take an hour apart and then return with cool heads to each voice their side before starting in a discussion. They had only needed to do it a couple times, and they had found out that both instances were miscommunications.

He was also more affectionate than he had ever been and had taken to bringing her flowers each week before they would go to dance lessons. The lessons had become a kind of date night for them, and she had started finding herself enjoying them. Through those lessons, she was learning more about him. For example, he was quite adaptable and quick in learning new dances. And the dear man was patient because it took her twice as long to learn a new dance, and she suspected he went home with bruised toes on those nights. But he never complained and always encouraged and praised her. Once they had been asked to switch partners for a minute with another couple who were having trouble learning the steps. The male's hand had drifted low on her back, and she had moved it back up. She had started to feel uncomfortable in this male's arms when she met his eyes and his hand had slipped lower again. A split second later, Milori had been in his way and glaring dangerously. She had been handed over in an instant and went back to Milori with stars in her eyes. It really was a weakness of hers to go weak-kneed at having a powerful, protective male who could probably make the stars fall from his glare if he wanted them to.

"Go on," he coaxed, breaking into her thoughts.

She blushed, not sure how long she had been drooling over him. His hand inconspicuously ran up her spine in a way that he knew drove her wild, and she realized he had probably been gazing at her two.

"I'll show you the bedchamber soon enough," Mary said dryly.

Clarion's face turned red and she took off to get away, Milori's chuckle following her.

No one but Spruce and Thomas knew she and Milori weren't living together. Both Clarion and Milori felt it was too private and something other fairies might push them to rush into if they knew. Overall, she very much enjoyed this courtship time and getting to know each other better. The only downsides were she missed waking up with him, and they couldn't do much kissing before their instincts would try kicking in to finish consummating their mating. Sometimes he had to leave a couple hours earlier than usual because he would start releasing white dust and it would start to get her going. She was embarrassed to admit that he had better self-control than her.

She sat on one of the beams and looked out the window. The view of the winter mountains in the horizon was breathtaking, and the warm seasons village looked so quiet and serene in the kiss of the golden morning light. The fields of spring were like vibrant, flowing colors on a canvas, and fall was a warm golden array of a splash of life. "Milori," she whispered in awe. "You have to get on Blizzard outside and look."

"The view is beautiful," he said in a deep voice a bit behind her.

She looked over her shoulder to see him leaning his hands on a small balcony railing that overlooked the living room, just slightly lower than where she sat. He was looking up at her, the sunlight casting a soft glow on her. She blushed and flew down to him.

"A balcony on the backside of our chambers," he explained. "I wanted to be able to see the sunsets with you from up high. There's a door so we can block the children from climbing out here before they're able to fly." He slipped his arm around her waist.

"You've been in the cabin before, haven't you?" she smiled.

"Guilty," he laughed. "I wanted to make sure everything was perfect for when you see it. Now, you fly down and we'll see the rest of the house. Our chamber is last."

She laughed and met him back in the living room. "Mary, I think you've outdone yourself." Clarion gave her a hug.

"You haven't seen the rest of the place," she giggled with excitement and started fluttering her own hand in her face.

Milori's arm went around her waist, and they followed Mary around the corner into the kitchen.

A squeal escaped Clarion when she saw the island counter, perfectly large sink, Italian tiled backsplash, ornately carved cabinets and every desire a female could want in a kitchen. She spun around on Milori with her hands over her mouth in surprise. Then she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a hug. "You said this was too expensive!"

He hugged her and then let her go to explore the kitchen. "I took on some odd jobs the past month."

She opened a cupboard to find the china she had been eying but hadn't mentioned to him because she knew how expensive the cabin was to build. She squealed and touched them carefully. "How did you know?!" Then something glittering in the next room caught her eye. She cocked her head and walked into the room curiously. A gasp escaped her.

A magnificent chandelier hung over an ornately carved mahogany dining table lined with more than a dozen chairs. Elegant windows lined each side of the room that connected to a majestic entertaining room.

"You need a place to entertain and hold meetings with your ministers," Milori told her, "if you don't want to leave the children to go to the castle. There are towers posted on each end of the cabin for guards to stand watch."

She turned to him. "Milori, I don't know what to say. It's all so beautiful."

He smiled and took her hand. "You haven't seen the best parts." Then he pulled her down a hallway off the living room.

The washroom was simple yet elegant, but she was surprised when they turned down a hall with four doors. He took her past two and then stopped at the door to the right at the end of the hall. He looked ready to burst with excitement and opened the door.

Her breath caught in her throat and tears came to her eyes. In one corner of the room was a white crib with beautiful pink bedding. In the other corner was a rocking chair and changing table. Along the opposite wall was a small bookcase with a couple picture books.

She stepped inside and slowly walked over the rug that had unicorns and fairies woven into it. Her hand ran along the crib railing, touching the smooth white wood. Gliding over to the rocking chair, she sat down. It was a perfect fit, but she noticed it was also large enough to hold Milori.

He stepped in and knelt down before her, his eyes tender and voice thick. "The other two rooms are for when the babies get bigger. They're empty so the girls can decorate them how they want. There aren't any baby clothes, toys or books so you can pick out what you want for the children when the time comes."

She smiled though her tears and cupped his cheek. "It's beautiful."

Taking her hands, he pulled her up. "Come see our chambers," he said and led her out. He stopped at their door and brushed a kiss over her lips. Then he opened it.

Their bedchamber was positioned so the bed was on the far side of the room, half of the bed being in winter. The majority of the room was in spring. The bed was larger than the old one, she noticed with a smile. There was a window seat large enough for both of them and half a wall filled with dozens of books. An old wooden desk was near another window, and a delicate vanity sat where there was perfect window lighting. A plush chair was near the bookcase and a closet.

"Where's the balcony?" she smiled.

He pointed to a door in the corner. "Up some stairs." He excitedly led her over to the walk-in closet that had a few new dresses in it. She smiled and was about to thank him for the beautiful gowns when he grinned and pulled her across the room to a door along the wall of the bed. He opened it to reveal a washroom with a long counter, wide basin sink and a shower in the corner. On the other side of the room was a large, deep tub.

"Come," he smiled proudly and took her over. He turned on the water and she was surprised to see water pulsating out from the sides. "It's called a jacuzzi. It's supposed to be very relaxing. Plus, Spruce said he thinks a home childbirth might be best because you get so stressed at the hospital. He said this would help relax you and be good for the baby if you labor in the bath." His eyes were so bright when he looked to her for approval.

She was so touched that he was this excited to have children and already trying to take care of them. But her heart fell. "Milori, we don't know for certain if we can have children," she reminded him gently.

Some of the joy left his eyes. "I know," he said quietly. "But I'm hoping you might want to see if artificial insemination works if I can't impregnate you on my own."

Brushing a kiss over his lips, she said gently, "I want to try it before we give up." She knew just how much his words cut his pride.

"Do you like the cabin?" he asked with his heart on his sleeve.

"Milori, it's so beautiful," she smiled.

He grinned, thrilled that she liked it, and wrapped his arms around her.

She just hoped the rooms wouldn't remain empty and be a constant reminder of what they could never have.

She was getting ready for their final dance lesson when there was a knock on her bedchamber door.

"Come in!" she called and finished braiding her hair at her vanity.

"Beautiful, as always," a deep voice said.

Turning around in her chair, she smiled. "Milori? What are you doing here so early?" Then she looked at him. "You're wearing a suit," she said in surprise, never having seen him in anything besides his usual clothes. The greenish-blue suit somehow suited his coloring better than a black suit, which would have washed out his pale skin. It made his shoulders look deliciously broad.

"I thought maybe we should make a fine night of it, sweetheart." He walked over and bent down to give her a kiss. "Perhaps dinner at Ben's restaurant and then watch the sunset from our cabin?"

"Really?" she smiled brightly, surprised that he wanted to go out yet again this week for dinner. He had been struggling with being social but was gradually coming back around the past month.

At the end of their dance lesson, she walked out on Milori's arm to mount Blizzard.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? You've been so quiet the past few minutes." He stopped and turned to face her.

"I just wish we weren't done with lessons. I'm not very good at it, but I like dancing with you," she admitted shyly.

A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "It doesn't mean we have to stop dancing," he said huskily and pulled her into his arms for a kiss. When her stomach growled, he pulled back with a belly laugh. "Apparently you need feeding first."

The dining was quiet and elegant, and she was relaxed because of the company. He was quite full of energy tonight. He had her rolling with laughter with some of his stories, and he soon had her chattering. She had never talked so long nonstop, but he watched her as if he had never heard anything more interesting, no matter what she said.

Time flew past until he suddenly glanced out the window. "Oh! We're going to miss the sunset," he said and threw some buttercup petals on the table to pay for their bill. Then he stood and offered his hand, eyeing her empty plate. "I do love that you're a female with an appetite," he smiled. "None of those wimpy salads for my girl."

She took his arm with a laugh and they hurried out to Blizzard. She wrapped her arms around him as they took off. She never tired of how perfect he felt in her arms. Laying her head on his back, she closed her eyes and let the wind tug at her hair as she simply enjoyed being with him.

They landed and he slid down before turning and reaching up to catch her. Then he took her hand and they hurried inside, the guards trailing behind and settling in the towers. She burst through the door with him and raced him through the cabin, glad his leg could tolerate short-distance running.

Her laughter rang through the hall, and he laughed, unable to hold back his joy upon hearing her.

His legs were stronger, so he was able to outdistance her down the hall. But he lost his balance from his broken wing when trying to turn into the bedroom. He slid past the door and his shoulder hit the wall. She worried that he was hurt until he pushed himself away from the wall with a smile just when she reached the door. Except she kept running and threw herself at him, capturing his lips as her arms wrapped around his neck. He fell back against the wall and wrapped his arms around her waist as he more than enthusiastically returned her kiss.

He whispered against her lips a moment later, "We'll miss the sunset."

"We have a thousand sunsets to see," she sighed.

He chuckled but pulled away from her. "Come on, let's go see it, sweetheart," he coaxed.

With a sigh, she let him pull her through the bedchamber and up the stairwell.

When she stepped out on the balcony only large enough for a handful of fairies, she stopped in her tracks. The sunset over the lands was like a beautiful dream, and the light flowing through the window was a gorgeous golden glow. The clouds were painted a glorious purple, pink and yellow. Then she saw something out of the corner of her eye. There were dozens of rose bouquets in vases all around the balcony. She turned to Milori in surprise. And her heart stopped when she saw him on one knee.


	43. Chapter 43

As soon as she could breathe again, her heart started pounding fast.

He took her hand. "Sweetheart, I love you with all my heart. I know this has probably been the worst first three months of a mating in history, but I'm hoping the worst is behind us. I've been trying as hard as I can to get to a place where I think we can make it. I can never tell you how much it means to me that you've stood by me through everything," he said quietly, gazing up into her eyes. "I never expected you to wait for me at practically all of the therapy sessions, do all of these journal and dance therapy exercises, or help me each day with wing exercises and back massages. I know I have a lot of work to do yet to be worthy of you. But these past months, even though they have been hard, have brought us so much closer. I wanted to wait until I had a home to give you, and I don't want to wait another moment longer to really start our life together. I can't promise you children," he said with regret. "I can promise that we'll have tough times, but I also promise we will get through them and come out stronger. I know I've said this before and broken your trust, but in these last three months I've truly learned what it is to fight for you. I've had to battle myself, which has proven to be so much harder than going to war. I believe if I can do that, I can take on anything to fight for you. You were my world before, but in these past months you've become my heart," he vowed in a thick voice. "You are my beacon when I get lost, Clarion. Your laughter and wit make me smile, and your generosity and love melt my heart; your loyalty humbles me. I wish you could see how much you guide me as a ruler, a friend, and a lover. You make me want to be a better male. I can't imagine another day without you. I want to dance through the rest of our lives with you as my partner." He searched her tearstained face. "Clarion, sweetheart, will you have me as your husband?"

Her lip quivered and tears fell down her cheeks. She dropped to her knees and held his face in her hands as she looked into his eyes. "I fell in love with a male who was carefree and vivacious but also as young and naive as I was. In the past months, we have been tested against each other in so many ways and on so many levels. I've seen you stumble and fall, but you have risen with so much grace and strength. You have so much valor and honor. I'm not scared anymore that you won't be there waiting for me. You have fought for us in times when I've been scared to; don't discredit yourself. You are my best friend, mentor and protector. I want to experience life by your side. I've wanted to be yours for centuries, but never more than right now. We will survive anything, Milori. I love you more than I did three hundred years ago, more than last week, and more than yesterday."

He wrapped his arms around her, and he opened his mouth but no words came out. A single tear rolled down his face, and he leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.

His actions spoke what words never could, reaching right into her chest and touching her heart. She wrapped her arms around his neck to hold him close. He sniffled and pressed his lips against her neck for a long kiss, his hand cradling the back of her head. Taking a shaky breath, more tears fell down her face because she realized in that moment her words had touched so deep into his soul he couldn't speak.

They held each other for several minutes, the power of the moment too strong to let go. When he finally loosened his grip on her, he had to brush at his eyes. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at her eyes. "We're going to flood the cabin," he teased gently.

She gave a watery laugh and took the handkerchief to dry his tears. "That was so beautiful. I don't really remember the first proposal."

He sniffled and gave an embarrassed smile. "It wasn't quite that lengthy."

Cupping his cheek, she held his eyes. "Thank you, Milori. It means so much to have the memory."

"Your words were beautiful. Thank you, sweetheart."

She blushed. "I did sort of propose, didn't I?"

"It was wonderful." He brushed a kiss over her lips and helped her stand up. Then he held her hands between them and searched her eyes. "Do you want to consummate our mating, sweetheart? I have no idea if I can or not, but I am happy with whatever decision you want," he added.

Her eyes searched his. "I don't understand."

He flushed and closed his eyes for a moment. "I misread things," he said in complete embarrassment.

"No," she cut in quickly. "I thought that, um, instincts are supposed to, um, take over and...the first time you propose," she explained with hot cheeks.

With slightly flushed cheeks from further embarrassment, he explained, "I haven't been able to desire you completely...Dewey thinks it's because you were so ill when I did propose that the proposal didn't have the full effect."

"Oh," she frowned, slightly confused. Then she waited for their instincts to consummate to kick in.

"Um, sweetheart," he smiled. "You need to give a 'yes' or 'no,'" he whispered.

"Oh!" She gave a nervous laugh. "Oh, Neverland, this is a bit awkward."

He took her in his arms and gazed down at her. "Then I'll ask again," he said huskily with a hint of a smile on his lips. "Clarion, will you be my mate?"

Tilting her head back for a kiss, her eyes drifted shut as he leaned down to her. "Yes," she whispered against his lips.

His smile was so full of joy that his light glowed slightly brighter. Then he kissed her.

She felt it-the instincts beginning to surface when she wanted him to touch her wings.

He swept her up in his arms and carried her down the stairs to their chamber, his eyes gazing down at her with profound love. "You know what happens, right?"

She blushed and nodded.

He gently set her to her feet and took her in his arms as he kissed her so deeply she forgot to be nervous. Then he slowly let her hair loose and ran his fingers through the silky tresses as he leaned down to kiss her neck.

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body against his. When he ran his hands over her wings, with the smallest bit of white dust, she gasped in pleasure.

He slowly unzipped the back of her dress while kissing her, and she tensed and set her hands on his chest, gently pulling away.

He looked at her with confusion. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

Wrapping her arms around herself, she said quietly, "Would you close the curtains?"

His brow furrowed and then he realized what was going on. Stepping closer, he softly rubbed her upper arms. "Sweetheart, I don't care about your scars. We need to trust each other. I swear they won't detract from your beauty. They are marks of honor."

"They're so thick and gross," she said in a thick voice and looked away in shame.

He gently turned her head to meet his eyes. "Nothing about you is less than beautiful. I wish to see your face when we join our bodies, sweetheart," he asked, his voice husky with desire.

Closing her eyes, she reluctantly said, "You can see my arm. If that doesn't disgust you, then my back. But not my front this first time."

"Alright," he said quietly and kissed her forehead. "Your heart is what makes you beautiful, sweetheart. But I promise to not look."

He guided her hands down to remove his clothes, hoping to waylay her fears if he was undressed first.

The sunlight was casting a gentle glow through the windows, enough to still see clearly. Her heart pounded, afraid his desire for her would fade once he saw how the scars had mangled her body.

She slowly slid his shirt up, marveling over his beautifully sculpted body. He raised his arms and helped her get his shirt over his head. Then he tossed it aside and wrapped his arms around her.

"No," she whispered softly and pushed back from him gently. A soft blush overcame her, and she glanced up to see him curiously watching her with a hint of a smile as she glided her hands over his hard torso. Then she stepped closer and kissed his chest. And again while she memorized the feel of every hill and valley of his large muscles.

He sighed with pleasure and ran his fingers through her curls.

"You're beautiful," she whispered and kissed her way up his neck to his lips.

"Clarion," he whispered against her lips as his arms went around her. "You are beautiful. One day you'll believe me that I don't see your scars." He slowly unzipped the back of her dress while he kissed her, hoping if he went slow she wouldn't be afraid. Then he helped her slide her arm out of her sleeve. He let her get used to him feeling it while he kissed her. He felt how much scarring there was so he wouldn't look surprised when he did see it.

"Just look," she said quietly, her stomach churning in tighter knots the longer he waited.

He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. "I'll pull the curtains if you really want it." His hand stroked her cheek. He felt her trembling. "Sweetheart, I promise it's not worth this."

Tears fell from her eyes. "You don't understand. My chest is disfigured. Spruce doesn't know if I'll be able to nurse a baby," she whispered. This was not how she wanted to spend their first night together. She had forgotten about the scars until minutes ago. She shouldn't have agreed to mating. He would find her distasteful but never be cruel enough to say it.

He didn't know how to ease her fears. "I'll close the curtains, sweetheart. But let me hold you," he asked.

Closing her eyes, she decided to just inflict the pain on herself all at once. She slowly slipped her dress off her shoulders and it pooled on the floor around her ankles. Her eyes remained intensely focused on the plush carpet, not having the strength to see his reaction. And his reaction was far stronger than she ever could have imagined.

He slowly came back toward her, and she startled when he took her hand. His other hand cradled her cheek and gently turned her head to meet his eyes. Tears shimmered in his eyes, and one cool tear fell onto her chest. "You bear scars because you were protecting me and your kingdom. These were not meant for you do bear, which make them all the more admirable. I do not care if you have a thousand scars or none, one arm or two...I love you, sweetheart. Just you," he whispered and he bent down and kissed the scars over her chest that she hated most.

She wanted to struggle, but she stood frozen, mesmerized by the fact he was worshipping such a hideous body.

Then he gathered her to him in an embrace.

Her arms hung limply at her side for a moment, shocked that he had no reaction of hesitation or disgust. Her arms slowly went around him, completely stupefied when his hands touched the thick scars on her back as if they were normal skin.

"Do my scars bother you?" he asked.

"No..."

"It's no different. Do yours ache or anything when they're touched?" He quickly let go and stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles. "I'm sorry, mine make my muscles ache sometimes, and I didn't think to ask you first."

She shook her head, blinking at him and unable to think of anything coherent.

Then he kissed her neck and ran his hands over her body, making her forget all about scars.

She was clinging to him moments later, his hands discovering incredibly sensitive areas of her that she hadn't even known existed.

He hissed in a breath. "Careful," he chuckled against her neck, where he was kissing an erotic spot under her ear.

"Hm?" she whimpered, anxious for something but not knowing what.

Her nails dragged across his back, and she suddenly realized it when she felt him tense. She let go of him so fast that she started to trip backwards, her wings fluttering to keep her upright. He stumbled forward a step but caught his balance, grabbing her hand before she fell.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" she asked and stepped behind him to see red scratches on his shoulders. She gasped and covered her mouth with a hand, gently laying her other on his poor flesh.

"Wife, I am not at all concerned about scratches," he said, restlessly and pulled off his pants. Then he turned and lifted her onto his hips, his good wing starting to flutter rapidly.

She squeaked in surprise and then giggled, resting her hands on his shoulders as she looked into his eyes. "Are you in a hurry?"

"I'm getting to be," he replied with a mischievous grin. Then he captured her lips.

Once she was sighing from his kisses over her neck and shoulders, she started to get restless in his arms. She could taste a sweetness in her own mouth, and he seemed to sense it like a honeybee because he started kissing her lips, soaking up her nectar. And then he started to caress her wings.

She could feel her wings softening from his white dust. It was the most pleasurable and relaxing sensation that swept through her entire body. Her sensed heightened, and his touch, his taste, his smell filled her. She clung to him, unable to get enough.

He gently folded down her wings, continuing the slow, long strokes with his hands. She shivered, and he reached to grab a blanket without breaking the kiss.

"I'm not cold," she whispered.

"Are your wings cold?" he asked.

She knew he was worried because it was taking him longer to soften her wings than it would take other males. "No," she breathed. She ran her hands over his hair, tossing his ponytail vine somewhere so she could run her hands through his hair. "It feels like feathers," she sighed, never having really noticed before.

"Probably the sparrow," he said without interest and moved down to kiss her neck.

"Hm?" she asked, hardly able to hold a coherent thought, much less a conversation.

"Males are part sparrow, hence the name Sparrow Men," he said, pressing her body closer to him.

Her arm wrapped around his chest and her other around his shoulders, instincts driving her now. His wing slowed to long strong flaps, and he slowly shifted his grip on her so she sank down on his hips.

He was damp minutes later from being in such close contact with her for so long in spring. His arms were trembling holding her up, and she was kissing his shoulder, still basking in the afterglow.

"Milori?" she whispered. "You need to cool off."

He grunted. "I don't want to put you down," he whispered and kissed her hair.

She slid down him but had to grab his arm when her legs threatened to buckle.

He caught her with a smile.

She let go a moment later once she steadied and then took a step back. "Go," she giggled.

He advanced a step with a sultry smile. "Come shower with me."

She kept backing up with giggles and he kept following with a grin. "It's too cold for me to shower with you."

"Not when I had Mary install dual shower heads." He reached for her, but she darted backwards into the washroom, her wings still drooping from his dust.

"You are naughty," she laughed.

He suddenly stopped and stared at her body.

The smile on her lips died instantly, and she wrapped her arms around herself self-consciously, forgetting he could see the scars.

"Clarion..." He took a couple steps, his eyes wide, and turned her to face the mirror.

Her scars were gone.

She blinked, not believing it, and ran her hands over her body, certain she would feel them. She was as smooth as silk.

"What on earth?" he asked in confusion.

Suddenly, she turned and spun him around to see the whip scars on his back no longer raised and bumpy but level with his skin and faded to light pink from her touch, nearly blending in with his pale skin.

He turned back around to her. "You don't know anything about this?"

"No," she frowned in confusion. "Maybe mating healed the scars. But why wouldn't yours be completely gone too?" She searched his eyes.

"I think mine are deeper than yours. From what Spruce said at the hospital, yours didn't go quite as far into the muscles," he shrugged. "I don't care I still have them if you don't mind them."

She smiled and then saw his eyes roaming down her body. He took her hand tenderly. She dropped her eyes in embarrassment and then realized he was still unclothed. Her eyes shot back up to his face, her cheeks flaming, and saw his eyes dancing with merriment.

"Don't laugh at me," she half smiled, her face growing impossibly red.

"I'm not laughing. You're just adorable," he said with a smile. He pulled her close and grazed the back of his knuckles over her cheek while gazing into her eyes. "You're just as beautiful without scars," he whispered. "Because I only see your heart."

Her eyelids fluttered shut, a tender tear slipping out from behind her eyelids, when he leaned down and kissed her.

She was a bit chilled from being in contact with him, and he was becoming flushed. The dual shower heads on opposite walls worked quite well...until she flung a bit of warm water at him when he had his back turned while rinsing soap off his face.

He yelped and jumped, spinning around in surprise and wiping the water from his eyes to find her giggling and backed up in her corner of the shower, protected from retribution by the warm water spraying down in front of her.

He got a big handful of cold water and wiggled his other finger at her to come out.

She giggled and shook her head, huddling her hands under her chin as protection.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, half smiling, as he dropped the water and resumed showering.

She watched him, intrigued by his flexing muscles. It also gave her an opportunity to study his physique without him noticing. When he was sufficiently distracted with showering, she washed her hair.

When she was under the warm water, he reached over and lightly trailed his cold finger down her front from her collarbone to naval.

She screeched and lept back, brushing the water from her eyes so she could see his next plan of attack.

He laughed and held out his hand to her. "Come back under the warm water. I won't splash you or anything."

Eying him suspiciously, she didn't move but stayed behind the warm water where he couldn't reach her.

"I'm sorry," he smiled. "I promise I won't. Come, you have goosebumps."

She slowly stepped forward into the warm water.

He reached for her hand, avoiding the warm water, and pulled her out of her stream to press her against a corner of the large shower that was free from any sprays.

He kept his body away from her, except for his lips, so he wouldn't chill her. Then his cool kisses trailed down her body, and they forgot about showering.

A bit later, she curled up on the sofa with him in the nightdress with which he had surprised her. She laid with her head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her. She was curled up in a blanket with a cup of hot cocoa that she had made—with a great deal of excitement—in her new kitchen. He sat in the corner of the sofa and sipped coca with ice cubes as they watched the stars out their large window. The fireplace was flickering with fireflies behind a false flame so she could have her fires without heating up the cabin for him.

"I don't want to leave home tomorrow," she sighed.

"You don't have to. I told your ministers that we were moving this week but to keep it a surprise."

She sat up and looked at him in surprise. "Sneak! Are you off too?"

"Yes. Dewey, Sleet, Sled and Snowflake can take care of things for a week."

She leaned over him to set down her mug and then set his down too on the endtable. Then she climbed in his lap and threw her arms around his neck. "You expected me to agree to mating, didn't you?" Pulling back, she looked at him with a smile.

"Well, considering you're basically already my wife, I had a good suspicion. Worst case was we'd be moving instead of being on a honeymoon."

"Honeymoon?" she asked in confusion. "Is that what it's called when new mates are gone for a week? If they aren't moving, what are they doing?" she frowned.

He grinned. "I can show you what they're doing." His hand slid up her thigh under her nightdress.

She blushed and pulled his hand away. "You know after the first day of mating any...tussle could result in a baby. With how little trouble you had with mating, I don't think it'll take much effort to have a baby."

His smile grew. "Wife, you cannot get with child unless you release nectar so I can release white dust on your wings." He slowly laid her down on the sofa and prowled over her.

"Yes, but..."

"If you don't kiss me deeply, you can't become fertile," he whispered huskily against her lips.

"But then my wings are too stiff," she frowned.

"You sleep on your wings in bed, don't you?" he mumbled, kissing her throat.

"You mean make love in a bed?" she whispered as if it was taboo.

He chuckled deep in his throat. "Or on the couch," he mumbled and started to peel up her nightdress.

"The window."

"...Is one-way. No one can see in," he said distractedly. "Otherwise bats and such would try to break through the window upon seeing our glows in here."

"You have an answer for everything, don't you?" she smiled and looked down at him kissing her stomach as he slowly worked her nightdress up.

"I've thought of whatever you can come up with," he said, consumed with his task.

Her stomach growled.

He stopped and looked at her. "Except that."

She wasn't sure how, but he had stocked the pantry and refrigerator with everything except actual food.

"Milori, I'll be fine until morning. It's midnight anyways," she said a few minutes later.

He was digging through the cupboards without success. "Well," he said and scratched his head. "I've heard warm fairies eat lilac petals. We have plenty of those surrounding the house," he said with an embarrassed laugh.

She gave him a dry look.

"Alright, maybe that's a rumor. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I..." His eye landed on a hummingbird nest filled with eggs in the bush out the window. "Clarion, are those fertilized eggs?"

She went outside the patio door with him and touched the eggs. "Only two of the three. This one didn't ever have any life. Sometimes they lay blank eggs," she said. "Why?"

He smiled and picked it up.

She stared at him as he cracked the egg and started cooking the slimy contents in a pan. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Making you eggs," he smiled. "I'm not without skills."

"What am I supposed to do with it?" she asked, not sure she wanted to know.

"Eat it." Then he looked up at her startled face. "You've never had eggs?" He got out some spices, a cherry, tomato, peppers and a piece of onion. Then he washed his hands and threw the dishtowel over his nightrobed shoulder. "You are going to have your first omelet," he said proudly. "Sometimes food gets low in winter. Being it's too cold for eggs to hatch when they're sometime laid in winter, sometimes we eat eggs three times a day. You can make anything with eggs. What did we use to make cupcakes?" He stopped chopping and looked at her with a frown.

"Not eggs."

His eyebrows shot to the sky. "Is that why they were so dry and weird? Girl, we are baking all week," he smiled and resumed chopping. "You have a lot of eating to make up for."

"What did you think was wrong with my cupcakes?"

He froze for a moment and then busied himself with cutting the tomato. "...Nothing."

"What?" she pressed.

"That maybe you aren't as good at baking as you are cooking," he mumbled.

"What?!" she cried, half laughing. "I'm actually not good at making very many things."

"I like your fried mushrooms," he grinned, relieved she wasn't offended.

She had to admit, the omelet was amazing. And he certainly knew his way around a kitchen, she thought to herself with a smile as she watched him washing the dishes while she sat on a stool at the island counter. His thin robe pulled tight across his shoulders, and he snapped the towel back over his shoulder after drying a plate. He whistled while he washed dishes, apparently unaware of it himself when he would seamlessly pick up where he left off between conversations.

"Do you wear an apron when you cook?" she asked, not even needing to ask if he cooked because he was so adept in the kitchen that she knew he did.

He grinned at her over his shoulder. "I do. I'm sort of messy." Then he started washing the pan and was whistling again.

She sipped her mug of cocoa, smiling as she thoughtfully studied him over the rim. He had the physique to look quite masculine and alluring in the kitchen wearing an apron.


	44. Chapter 44

Silvermist tried to pick up the dewdrop again. It quivered in her hands and then burst the second she stood up with it. She groaned in frustration.

The cast from her elbow to wrist wasn't that bad—it was the wax leaves wrapped around her hand to her elbow to keep the cast dry that was the problem. She was falling farther behind at work every day, even with the other water fairies trying to help pick up her share of the work.

Slowly dunking her hands into the water, she lifted up a dewdrop and slowly flapped her wings to take it over to the flower petals on which the water fairies were practicing leaving dew. It quivered harder and harder, so she flew fast and set it down on the flower with a sigh of relief. And then all the dewdrops suddenly burst, soaking her wings.

She let out a small scream as she fell through the air. And was suddenly in strong arms.

"Look at what landed in my arms," Sleet smiled and flew down to set her on her feet.

"Thank you," she said with a bowed head and brushed at her eyes.

His smile faded and he bent down to look at her. "Why are you crying?"

"I can't do any work, and right now I'm so far behind," she blubbered and sank to the ground in defeat.

He knelt before her and brushed at her tears.

He was a tad rough doing it, but she didn't mind because she knew he was trying to be gentle.

"No tears. What can I do? I caused this mess, so I'll help you catch up."

She looked at him with big eyes. "Can you pick up dewdrops?"

"Oh. I can't do anything like that. I don't have any talents," he said, obviously regretting he couldn't be of any help.

She sniffled. "Do you not like me?"

He blinked, clearly taken aback. "I...um, well..." His face flushed slightly.

With a sad but understanding smile, she patted his shoulder. "Nevermind. I suppose you not coming to see me after the hospital is an answer in itself." Then she got up and started to walk away, her wings and dress hanging wet and limp.

He was suddenly walking beside her. "I told you I'm not good at this," he retorted accusingly.

Silvermist stopped and looked up at his hard face. "I'm not good at being a water fairy right now either, but it's not an excuse for me to not try." Then she continued walking.

Sleet growled under his breath and caught up to her. "I haven't come because I didn't want to, alright?" he snapped.

Cocking her head, she looked up at him. "Maybe the Alamur would break your bone in return, but I'm not going to," she scowled.

I didn't want you afraid that I want to kiss you."

She frowned. "That's not very nice to tell a girl you don't want to kiss her. Friends don't expect kisses like that."

He blinked. "I don't like it that I never know what to say to you," he barked, as if it was her fault.

She cocked her head, and then her eyes grew wide. "Oh! Do you not know the language well?"

He sputtered. "Of course I know it! I've been here for hundreds of years!"

"Then just say what you're thinking!" she raised her voice.

"Are you yelling?"

"Yes!" she shouted, so frustrated.

He started making a sound, and it kept bubbling up until he was holding his belly.

It was such an odd sound that she was startled at first.

And then it turned into a laugh once the rustiness of disuse cleared away.

"Why are you laughing at me?"

"I've never heard anyone use a normal speaking volume to yell," he laughed, wiping at his eyes.

She was silent and then looked at him with big eyes. "I thought you were trying to be my friend at the hospital."

He immediately sobered, realizing her feelings were hurt. "Forgive me. No one wants attention from an Alamur," he said. "I'll leave you in peace." He he raised his wings to go.

"Is that what you are?" she asked.

This female constantly knew how to leave him off balance. He lowered his wings with a frown. "You said yourself that you knew I was."

"So, you're an Alamur and not my friend. You're going to let it define you?"

His brow furrowed. "You know nothing about me," he growled.

"I know you are a loner because you're afraid, not because you want to be alone. You're not just worried about scaring me with a kiss, you're afraid of getting hurt—I think you've been hurt before." She took a step closer and looked into his eye. Studying him, she reached up and lifted the eyepatch before he could react.

A startled blue and brown eye looked at her before he stumbled back a step, pulling the patch back in place. He glared. "A riot would force the Queen to banish me," he snarled.

"You're not anything like an Alamur," she said softly with regret. "You have a heart that you try to hide, and you use your intelligence and strength to help us, not harm. But you do have Alamur left inside of you..."

He opened his mouth, visibly angry.

"...because you're afraid to trust. I blamed myself when you were at the until they decided to do surgery on my arm. I woke up, expecting you to be there still because I was so scared. But you weren't," she said quietly.

He swallowed hard.

"I thought I had been mean to you or something and had caused you to leave. You left me alone," she whispered, his logic completely beyond her. "I didn't understand why you were punishing me."

He blinked back tears, not wanting to be moved by this tiny creature.

"But Tink came and said you had told her to come so I wouldn't be alone. I waited for you to come back because I realized you wouldn't have sent her if you were angry with me. But I still don't understand why you've been ignoring me."

She looked up at him with such innocence.

"I told you—," he growled.

"I'm not afraid of you, and you know it. I know you're my mate," she interrupted.

He stumbled back and plopped hard onto a large pebble, the air knocked out of him. "No," he whispered with a pale face.

"I'm not dense enough to believe that you didn't know. You don't want me as your mate," she answered, more curious than hurt. She cocked her head. "I never expected a mate," she said with a soft shrug. "I'm not going to tell anyone or hold you to it," she explained with a gentle voice. Then she stuck out her hand.

He slowly took it, unable to find his tongue through any of this.

Her tiny hand was engulfed in his, but she shook it more firmly than expected for such a quiet, dainty fairy. "Goodbye, Captain Sleet," she said softly with an innocent smile. And then she walked away.

He watched the small creature, who was able to shatter all of his senses with just her presence when even the most evil Alamurs hadn't been able to shake him, walk away down the dirt path. He swore under his breath and flew after her.

She looked at him with surprise when he landed beside her and fell into step without a word. "Hello."

He folded his hands behind his back and kept his eyes forward, his posture tight and straight like that of a soldier.

"Are you lost? Winter is back that way," she pointed behind them.

He turned his head and stared at her. Then he looked at the path ahead and then back at her, completely baffled as to how to respond. "No."

They continued a few steps in silence.

Then he spoke up, irritated again. "Do you want a ride to wherever you're going or not?" he snapped.

She frowned severely. "Not with those manners. I'd rather walk, thank you." She kept going, leaving him stopped and staring after her.

"You're so tiny, how the hell are you this irritating?!" he barked after her.

"Didn't hear you!" she called without turning around or stopping.

He flew after her and slammed down on his feet before her, causing her to stop instantly. "Why the hell are you so irritating?" he snarled.

She looked up at him, completely calm. "I'm not talking to you until you're nice to me."

He growled deep in his chest and glared in a way that made the bravest soldiers cower.

Silvermist simply looked up at him, waiting.

He dropped his head back with a groan. "Would you like a ride to wherever you're going?" he asked calmly.

She smiled. "That would be lovely, kind sir." She held up her arms for him to pick her up.

With a sigh, he reluctantly lifted her delicate form. The moment she slipped her arms around his neck, trusting an Alamur without a second thought, his heart stopped.

She looked up at him. "You want to run, don't you?" she asked in a soft voice.

He looked down at her. "I don't," he answered, surprised himself. Then he knelt down with a smile that melted through the hardness and softened his features.

She frowned and looked around, confused what he was doing.

"You said once that you wondered what it was like to go as fast as a fast-flying fairy. You've never flown with an Alamur," he smiled. Then he shot into the sky, soaring so fast there was a clap of thunder.

She screamed in delight as he took her faster than a fast-flying fairy.

It had been the best three days of her life. Milori taught her how to bake delicious things—with eggs, they sat in a porch swing that he had built and watched the sunsets, they stretched out on each other and read books on the sofa, they talked in bed in the dark until the wee hours of the morning, and they made love each night. Somehow each time with him moved her more, and he said he believed that they would one day become so emotionally close that their souls would mold into one so they would die together on the same day in each other's arms. She knew that wasn't possible, but it warmed her heart to think that he felt that close to her.

On the afternoon of the third day, she was painting an idea of a new butterfly wing pattern on her easel in the kitchen when Milori walked in through the patio.

"Hello, sweetheart." He walked up behind her where she was sitting on a stool near the bay window and kissed her cheek. He reached around and held up the bouquet of roses, daisies, daffodils and tulips.

"Ohhh," she cooed with a smile and set down her brush and palette to take them. "You said you weren't going to go into summer to get more roses." She took the empty vase on the table and filled it with water at the sink.

"I felt bad that I killed your other bouquet with frost when I sneezed yesterday," he replied, pleased to see her fussing over arranging the flowers. "What are you painting?"

She carried the vase to the table beside him and turned it this way and that to see what angle she liked. "I have an idea for a new butterfly wing pattern." She turned around. Her smile melted when she saw him staring at the canvas, his eyes vacant and terrified. "Milori?" She looked at the painting of only an outline of a butterfly body and head, without wings, legs or antennae yet. Searching his eyes, she tried to figure out what was wrong. "Milori?" She touched his arm but he didn't seem to notice.

Instead, his breathing picked up and his brow grew damp.

Stepping between him and the canvas, she touched his arm and felt him trembling.

His breathing quickly was becoming more rapid.

She was frightened, realizing he was probably having a panic attack. Never had she witnessed one before, but the therapist had said Milori would probably have one at some point. She tried to remember what he had said she should do. But this seemed like more than a panic attack—it was like he was lost in his mind and reliving a torturing.

"Milori," she said firmly, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. Holding up her hand in his line of vision, she moved it from left to right in a repetitive motion. The therapist had said if Milori was remembering a trauma, the rapid eye movement might help decrease the anxiety. The therapist had practiced it with Milori, so she hoped his body would respond.

After a couple seconds, his eyes started following the movement, but he was still having a panic attack. He blinked and started backing away, bumping into furniture and walls and clearly becoming more agitated.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't escape the memories that were threatening to surface. The room was too small. He had to get out. He needed space. He needed air. He needed to run. But he couldn't run with his leg. He needed to fly and felt his wing trying to lift and flap in distress but it caused shooting pains.

She saw him panicking and then his wing trying to beat faster from pain. He needed to get out. "Come. Let's go outside," she said quickly and opened the patio door.

He shot straight out the door and plowed right through the lilac bushes.

She flew after him, her legs unable to keep up with his long strides through the short-grass field. His entire body was shaking, and she had no idea what to do. "Milori, what do you need?" she inquired, hoping he was in a state of mind to semi-understand what she was saying.

He kept charging straight ahead without paying any notice to where he was going through the large field. Then he froze.

She landed before him and instantly grabbed his hips to pull him along in a dance, clueless as to what might help him.

He resisted at first, but then his feet started to move with her.

She could see his heart slamming in his chest, and his eyes looked right through her. But he was moving with her. Slowly falling into a waltz, she set his hand on her waist. It wrapped around her, and she knew he was coming back. Spinning them in gradual turns, she hoped the movement would snap him out of it. She set her hand on his shoulder and then took his hand after a few more steps when he seemed to be coming around. After a full dance, he blinked and looked at her, his breathing slowing and the trembling subsiding. Yet she didn't stop.

"It's just us," she promised. "It's safe."

He slowed them to a stop and then let go of her to sit down cross-legged.

Kneeling beside him, she laid her hand over his on his knee. "Do you feel alright?"

He ran his hands over his face and then interlaced his fingers behind his neck, leaning his elbows on his knees. "I thought it was getting better," he said quietly.

"I doubt he would say one episode is backtracking." She set her hand on his back, gently rubbing. "Honey, this will happen from time to time."

"It hasn't happened before."

"What triggered it?" she asked gently.

"The painting...it looks like one of their knives," he whispered as if haunted by the image.

There was hellish screaming. It was horrifying screaming that raised the hair on the back of her neck and made chills run up her body. It echoed through the dark, damp stone halls. She ran faster away from it, trying to muffle her sobs. Whipping her head around, she heard multiple footsteps chasing. Her breathing was harsh and labored, and she lurched to the left to go down another hall and hopefully lose the shadows. The slippers on her feet were as wet and filthy as the hem of her dress and made slapping sounds as she splashed through disgusting puddles that riddled the halls. But she didn't pay any heed because she was terrified they would catch her. She tore down another hall, but the screams were closer. She couldn't go in there. Spinning around to run back the other way, she ran right into them.

She jerked awake in a cold sweat in the dark, softly weeping. With a gasp of fright, she stumbled out of bed and whipped around to see a faint glow in the bed. It took a moment for her to realize it was Milori, sound asleep on his back. Slowly crawling back in, she scooted to the edge of her side of the bed and carefully pulled his arm away from under his ice blanket and on top of her covers. Then she cuddled up to his arm the best she could.

He sighed in his sleep and rolled toward her, scooting slightly onto her mattress to spoon her.

She rolled over and tucked her back against his chest. His arm draped over her, and she laced her fingers with his and held his hand to her chest to be wrapped in his arms.

"Clarion, what's wrong?" Milori asked her the next morning when she had been silent through all of breakfast.

"I'm just tired," she said over her cup of cocoa at the table.

He was sitting beside her and looked at her full plate of food. Laying a hand over her arm, with both of them still in their robes, he searched her face. "Do you need to see Spruce? You don't look well," he frowned in concern.

She shook her head.

"Sweetheart, talk to me. We need to be open with each other," he urged.

She rested her elbows on the table and held her head. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"Clarion?" He scooted closer and wrapped his arm around her waist. "Whatever is wrong, we'll talk about it."

She took a shaky breath, worried if she should tell him.

He brushed her hair away from her face gently. "Are you having morning sickness?" he asked carefully.

She started crying harder.

"Sweetheart," he said calmly. "I know we didn't plan on a baby so soon, but I promise it will work out."

"There's no baby," she wept and fell apart even more.

He gathered her in his arms. "Love, you're really worrying me. Nothing is worth getting this upset."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he pulled her into his lap. "You're going to be so hurt," she started sobbing on his shoulder.

"Whoa, love, we'll talk about it. Don't be afraid to tell me something."

"I dreamed that we were caught by the Alamur," she sniffled.

"Oh, love, they're gone. If there are any left, I won't let anyone hurt you," he vowed and held her tighter.

"They were torturing you, but I got away..."

"I'm not sure I follow," he frowned.

"I could hear you screaming, but I kept running. I'm sorry," she wept.

He was silent for a moment. "Clarion, it was a dream," he said calmly.

She pulled back and looked at him through a completely tearstained face. "I wouldn't leave you. I don't know why I dreamed that."

He tried to dry her eyes, but the tears were coming too hard. "Sweetheart, I wouldn't want you to come back for me. I'd want you to get away," he told her, looking into her eyes. "Don't cry," he pleaded.

"But—"

"No buts. If ever something would happen, whether it be an accident or anything, I'd want you to go so you're safe."

He said he needed to run out a bit later but was vague about where.

He walked in late that morning to see her chopping carrots and tomatoes for salads. Walking over, he kissed her cheek from behind.

"Where were you?" she asked.

Leaning back against the counter beside her so he could see her face as they talked he said, "I didn't want you to worry because I went to see Rufus."

Her eyes immediately whipped around to him. "I thought he said you can go weekly. It's only been a few days. What's wrong?"

He rubbed her shoulder. "I only went to talk to him about what happened yesterday. And your nightmare."

"And?" she asked anxiously and turned to face him fully.

"He said he thinks your nightmare was because you were scared about what happened yesterday." He watched her closely when he slowly added, "He said my PTSD might be getting worse."


	45. Chapter 45

Tink was playing volleyball with Terence and some of the dust keeper fairies. The weather was hot, but a cool breeze made it perfect.

"Yes! Let's go!" she cried and clapped her hands together, pumped to be on a team with Terence and meeting some of his friends.

They all huddled to discuss the strategy.

"Alright, you spike the ball to me, Fritz. I'll hit it to Aster to get a point..." one of the fairies told her.

"What about Terence?" she asked.

"Terence, you just man your spot. He's not very good," the fairy said.

She looked at Terence, who looked embarrassed but was silent.

The game started, and the ball was never passed to Terence.

When they were in a huddle half way through the game, Tink said, "Terence, hit the ball to me—"

"No! We're ahead by four. Terence will mess it up," one of the guys said.

"Yeah!" a couple others chimed in.

Terence's face turned red with shame, regretting he had brought Tink along to see this.

She closed her mouth and didn't say another word.

"Getting worse why? How?" Clarion asked, terribly worried. She took his hand, just wanting to hold him and push away the evils that were trying to claw at him.

He gave a nervous, ashamed smile.

She shook her head. "Milori, I need you to teach me what to do and what's going on," she pleaded. "There's no judgement."

He took a deep breath. "I get anxious talking about it...and need to pace or—"

"Dance," she finished and dragged him into the living room.

He gave a soft chuckle. "I guess we're going to talk now."

She turned and set her hands on his shoulders and his on her hips. "Close like this," she said and started dancing. "Tell me, honey."

"I don't want you to get upset again, so I think the next time it happens you should leave—"

"Absolutely not."

He blinked.

"If you're having a flashback thinking Alamur are here, or are even remembering something that hurt or scared you, you shouldn't be alone. If you are comfortable, I want to just come and listen at the therapy sessions. The more I know about what happened and what to do, the more I can understand and help."

He shook his head. "Some things are too dark for you to know," he replied firmly.

"That is exactly the kind of rift that will drive a wedge between us over time, Milori."

He sighed.

"We'll talk about it later. What did he say?"

"First, he said a whole combination of things are happening that are making things regress: suddenly switching from daily to weekly therapy would be fine without this other stuff that he didn't know about. He said congratulations on the cabin, by the way," he smiled. "Anyways, an isolated honeymoon being at home apparently isn't good, not having the normal daily routine, not having familiar surroundings, not being around friends...I guess just a slew of things are a bad mix. He said he thinks having you around is probably keeping me from having a meltdown," he finished in embarrassment.

"I don't understand. I thought you feel fine?" she frowned.

"I thought I was alright," he said quietly. "The nightmares aren't anything new, and I don't feel restless or anything. I like being here just us for awhile..."

"But?"

"I didn't want to ruin the honeymoon," he finished sadly and walked over to the endtable. He pulled out his journal and handed it to her.

She flipped through it and was shocked to see each day contain five or more pages of entries. Her eyes flew to him. "Are you sleeping?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes on the journal instead of looking at her. "I wake up after a couple hours and just lie there. Around sunrise I fall asleep again."

Searching his face she asked, "Why aren't you telling me these things? Did you think I'd get upset?"

"No," he admitted. "I wanted us to feel normal, just for a week," he explained with a heavy heart. "I didn't want to be talking about screaming, gore, tortures and everything. We haven't been just us for centuries, Clarion. I just wanted to forget for awhile, and I didn't think that I wouldn't be able to hold it together for just a week," he finished, his face full of shame.

Setting the journal down, she touched his face and rested her other hand on his chest. "Milori, there is no 'holding it together.' This is simply something we need to care for every day, much like brushing teeth or showering."

"No," he protested with a heavy heart. "I went to daily therapy for months try to get better so we can have a life together. I hate going to therapy because it's like picking open a scab every time, poking and digging until it bleeds and hurts again, only to do it all over again the next day. I hate it, Clarion. I needed a break for just a few days. There's no end to it," he said with tears in his eyes. "He said last week it was so much better. I thought I was almost done. I thought I was almost normal again."

She wrapped her arms around him, and he held her tight. When he laid his cheek on top of her head and quietly wept, she fought to stay strong for him. "You are normal," she said softly, her own tears brimming for his pain. "Honey, it takes time to recover from you've been through. It might take years to learn exactly what we need to do for maintenance. I promise it will get better. It will never heal, but it will get better, Milori."

When she read the journal entries, she saw his self-confidence plummet within just two days after their mating, and his nightmares—although not described—were clearly becoming more disturbing to him.

She sat on Rufus's couch beside Milori that afternoon once he admitted Rufus wanted her present for the therapy a few times and that Rufus had requested a session to be held again that day.

"How did reading that journal make you feel?" he asked Clarion. "I don't think he fully understands how much you want to help him."

She looked at Milori, still holding his hand.

He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, nervous of her reaction to hearing how far lost he was. How hopeless his case probably was.

"I feel so guilty," she said in a thick voice, tears instantly springing to her eyes.

Milori blinked and shook his head slightly as if not believing his ears.

"I was right there with you for days, and I had no idea anything was wrong."

His brow furrowed. "It's not your fault."

"But I should know," she sniffled. "I'm your mate, and I should be able to read you without any words."

"Clarion, I hid it because I didn't want you to see," he replied.

"Milori, what are you thinking? You look surprised by her answer," Rufus interjected.

Milori searched her anguished face. "It's not your responsibility to have to 'read' me. It's not your fault that I'm messed up."

"Why do you say that?" she cried. "Why do you say you're 'messed up'? I—"

"Alright, calm down," Rufus held out a hand to stop her. "You sound like you're attacking him."

"No!" She looked at Milori. "I hate it when you imply there's something wrong with you. I love your quirks and imperfections. I think you're perfect, and it makes me angry when you talk down about yourself!" she cried.

Milori blinked at her, then Rufus and then her again.

"You look surprised again," Rufus told him.

"Um...yes..." he said, speechless.

"What surprised you?" Rufus coaxed.

"That she's so protective," he said with a half laugh.

"What?" Of course I am! I...wh..." she stammered.

"Take your time," Rufus said.

She looked at Rufus and pointed at her chest. "I wish those filth were still alive so I could...I don't even know! Do something to them!" she barked.

Milori's eyebrows rose. "I think the last time I saw you this frazzled is when you threatened to banish me," he half smiled in surprise.

She gave him a look.

"I'm not making fun of you," he said with a hand raised in surrender.

"You got to kill Bernard and get your anger out," she huffed and flopped back against the couch, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What does her reaction make you feel like? I'm guessing good, by the smile on your face," Rufus asked.

"Yes, actually," Milori smiled and took in the anger that was pulsating off of her still. "I didn't know you felt so strongly about it."

She cocked an eyebrow.

"I knew you were angry, but I didn't realize how much it affected you."

Suddenly, she turned and took his hands so she was sitting sideways on the couch. "Because I try to be calm and steady for you. You don't need to see anger when you're feeling frightened and lost."

"But sometimes it helps to see you get worked up because otherwise I feel like I'm being a burden," he answered gently.

"Fine. Then you have to wake me up when you have nightmares. You sleep on a block of ice, so I can't feel the bed wiggle if you're tossing and turning."

"Sometimes. Sometimes I will wake you up."

"I'll prescribe some sleeping pills that will help you sleep through at least part of the night," Rufus said.

"No."

They both looked at Milori.

"No, I don't want to drug it away. I've tried pills and they make me feel groggy and off all day too. I want to figure out something else."

"You've already been trying things. This isn't good for you to be losing so much sleep," Rufus pointed out.

"Excuse us," Milori said and leaned over to whisper in her ear. "I sleep the best after we make love and I can hold you. Perhaps we can try that a couple nights a week if nothing helps? And I'm thinking that maybe dancing before bed might help as a relaxation technique?"

She blushed but smiled and nodded. At the same time, she was impressed that he was taking so much initiative with his treatment. "We can try those," she answered and looked at him.

He smiled shyly and took her hand again.

The session went on, and she found out that Milori was having trouble with suppressed memories of the torture trying to surface.

"Milori, this memory has been trying to surface for weeks, and it's getting worse. I think that with Clarion here, maybe we should try to bring it up. You might feel safe enough with her here to bring it out," Rufus suggested.

Milori shook his head quickly. "I don't know what it is, and I don't want her hearing something that might frighten her."

"Have you thought that maybe me being kept in the dark is what scares me?" she spoke up.

He looked at her in confusion.

"My imagination has no boundaries, and I see the scars on your body. I have nightmares of them doing things like maybe injecting you with drugs that I learned during the war can increase pain responses, or maybe doing sexual things...I don't know."

His eyes grew wide. "No, they never did anything like that."

"But I have no boundaries, Milori. Not knowing makes me more afraid because whatever I dream up, I'm scared it's worse than that."

"She has a valid point, Milori. If whatever you say starts to get graphic to the point where I'm concerned how she'll handle it, I'll have her leave," Rufus promised.

Milori looked at her. "Promise you'll leave if he tells you, no matter if I'm having a panic attack or anything?"

"Milori—"

"Promise."

She sighed and held his eyes. "I promise."

Milori was incredibly tense, so Rufus had them dance for a few minutes. Milori gradually held her closer and closer until she was dancing with her head on his chest and his arms were around her.

"It's alright," she whispered, hearing his heart thundering in his chest.

Rufus talked him through it, and she heard Milori starting to pant a few minutes later.

Rufus got up and walked over to them. "Let it come. Clarion's in your arms. You're just seeing it, it's not truly happening," Rufus promised. "Clarion," Rufus said to her quietly. "He's aware of us, but he's reliving the memory in his head as if it's happening. He's having a full-blown flashback, and he might scream and react like he's being hurt."

"He can feel it?" she whispered in fear but not loosening her grip on Milori.

Rufus looked at her regretfully.

Milori started shifting and pushing against her arm as if he was squirming while being held down. "No," he whimpered. His eyes looked right through her.

"Talk to him," he told Clarion.

"It's a memory, honey. I'm right here. We're in Rufus's office," she promised and pulled his arm back around her.

He held her close again, and then suddenly his body went rigid and he arched against her, trembling. A scream, worse than any she had dreamed, escaped him.

"Milori, it's not real," she promised and stroked his face that was contorted in pain. "Please, this is enough," she begged Rufus. Her heart slammed in her chest, fear heightening her senses and making her hands tremble.

Milori's eyes were terrified and blank.

"Stop," she demanded of Rufus, with tears in her eyes. "Stop torturing him!" she cried, desperate to save Milori from going through something his mind obviously wasn't handling well. She cupped his face in her hands. "Milori, look at me," she wept.

"If it all comes out now, he can start dealing with it," Rufus promised.

"I'm right here," she told Milori, his breathing so fast she didn't know how he didn't faint.

"No," he whimpered and shook his head. He started pushing Clarion away as if she was someone else.

"Sweetheart, it's me," she promised, her voice shaking as hard as her hands.

He backed up against the wall and tears fell down his face. "No, I don't know anything," he begged as if speaking of something else. His face crumpled, almost as if he saw a torture coming and was scared.

She knew the terror in his eyes would be burned into her memory forever. She was shaking too hard to speak when she tried to take his hand. He jerked away as if afraid, and she suspected he didn't realize it wasn't an Alamur's hand. She didn't know what to do. He was being tortured before her eyes, and she was powerless to stop it.

Rufus stepped forward. "Milori, grab my arms. You can feel reality. You can hear it and see it," Rufus demanded. He set Milori's hands on his forearms and held Milori's forearms. "Squeeze," he ordered.

She watched Milori's hands grip Rufus's forearms impossibly hard, even Rufus battling to counter the pressure on Milori's arms to keep him from gripping too hard.

Milori arched away from the wall and screamed in unearthly pain, long and hard and heartbreaking.

Clarion wept, her shaking so uncontrollable that she could hardly stand. She had felt terror while at Bernard's hands, but this was far worse and more torturous witnessing Milori reliving a torture. Little had she known that her nightmare last night of hearing him being tortured would come true. But this time, she couldn't find him in his mind to save him.

"Milori, they aren't electrocuting you anymore," Rufus promised.

A sob escaped her, Milori's bosy movements suddenly making sense that he thought he was strapped down and being electrocuted. "Stop!" Clarion screamed, unable to witness Milori's mind tearing apart anymore, and ran over to cup his face in her hands. "Milori, look at me," she ordered.

"Milori, find Clarion. You can stop it by finding her."

"I'm right here. Look at me," she demanded and took his hand to set it against her wet cheek. She pushed between him and Rufus, wanting the monster away from him. She started humming a song they often danced to in class, although her voice cracked and strained through her tears. Taking his hands, she started him in a waltz, hoping she would get through to him. He slowly followed as if in a daze.

Moments later, his eyes were focused and he held her closer, taking over the dance lead. His breathing was harsh and full of terror, soft whimpers escaping. He clawed and fisted handfuls of her dress as if trying to find something safe. His trembles vibrated through her.

She wrapped her arms around him. "I love you. I won't let anyone hurt you," she promised.

He buried his face against her hair, his shaking beginning to fade as he held her tight. "Don't let go yet," he whispered, his voice quivering.

"Never," she whispered and wrapped her arm around his shoulder to stroke his hair.

As soon as he was calm again, Rufus walked over. "Good. Next time—"

She spun around in Milori's arms and pushed Rufus back a step. "There is no next time!" She pulled out of Milori's arms and pushed Rufus back another step, not wanting him near Milori. "You aren't making him do that again!" she snarled with rage. Milori's arms went around her waist to pull her back. "That's sick and twisted to make him suffer like that!" she cried, trying pry Milori's hands off her, her fiery eyes shooting daggers at Rufus.

"Easy," Milori said calmly, struggling to keep ahold of her.

"It was for his own good," Rufus said.

"Own good?!" She struggled and broke free, but Milori caught her a step later. "Let me go!"

"Are you going to calm down?"

"Yes!"

The second he let go, she took a step toward Rufus. Milori caught her again, worried she was going to slap Rufus.

"Your Highness, if we do it in controlled stages like this—" Rufus started to say.

"This was not controlled!" she yelled.

Milori hefted her over his shoulder when holding her in his arms didn't work. "Excuse us." He hauled her struggling form through the waiting room, past stares and into the hall where he set her on her feet.

"Don't carry me out like a lunatic!" she barked and brushed her loose locks out of her face, ready for a fight.

"Then stop acting like one," he replied dryly and stood blocking her path with his hands on his hips. "If you want to be in there, you have to keep your fiesty temper."

She flung her arm out, her brow furrowed. "You didn't see what he was doing!" she screeched.

He pulled her into a deserted hall when they started drawing attention. Then he turned to face her. "I was aware of both the flashback and some of what was actually happening. Part of me was aware at times that it wasn't real. I appreciate the protectiveness, but you can't go beating up the therapist. He has the most knowledge for how to deal with this, so until his theories prove ineffective, we're doing them," he ordered.

Her eyebrows shot up. "No! Not when they're—"

"Clarion," he grounded out, "if you want to be present, you will be quiet and do what he says needs to be done."

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at him defiantly. "Or you're just going to manhandle me out?"

He sighed and closed his eyes to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Why are you being difficult?"

Her mouth dropped and eyes bugged. "Do you think this is healthy to force you to remember things that your mind clearly isn't ready to handle? Help them surface, yes, but do not force it all at once!" she cried. Then she pointed her finger at the ground angrily. "He has never actually treated PTSD, Milori. He's going based on books and human cases. We aren't human, and you aren't a textbook case. Something isn't right, and I'm not going to shut up and watch him torture you!"

He looked ready to bite her head off but held his tongue. "Fine." He spun around and started down the hall.

"Don't you dare walk away from me," she hissed. "Don't make this a war," she called after him.

He turned, his face hard as he tried to protect his heart. "I didn't, Clarion," he said quietly. "You did."

"I am protecting you!" she nearly shouted, so enraged and terrified for him. "I will not watch you be put through that again! I don't give a damn what he says, this method will not do anything but hurt you!"

"Then don't watch," he said tightly. And he went back inside without her.


	46. Chapter 46

She waited for him in the hall, refusing to participate in what she believed was destructive therapy for Milori. The ride home on Blizzard was tense, silent and long.

He helped her dismount and then stormed into the cabin.

She followed into the living room, unsure how to approach the topic. Then she heard the bedchamber door slam. Hard. Dropping onto the loveseat, she stared at the wall and tried to figure out what to do.

Heavy footsteps came storming down the hall a minute later. He stopped in the living room doorway looking ready to explode. "Why can't you understand that I need to do whatever it takes to put this damn mess behind us?!" he bellowed.

She calmly remained in her seat. He was too angry to be reasonable, and adding her anger would only make things worse. "I understand that you are willing to do anything. But have you considered that some things could cause you to backtrack? This doesn't feel right to me, Milori," she answered calmly. "I'm not trying to stop you from healing, I just want to make sure that you heal instead of scar."

He threw up his hands. "Clarion, there are only scars! You are scared! This is why I did daily therapy for three months without you! Because I knew you'd say it was too aggressive or something!" he cried in frustration.

She shot to her feet. "Milori, you so desperately want this behind you that you are diving into something without looking first. I am learning every day how hard it can be for you to just get through the day without a panic attack or flashback or something," she pleaded for him to understand. "You have to trust me. I am more removed from the situation, and I can see this treatment will hurt you!"

He took an angry step forward and pointed to his chest. "You do not live with this daily. You do not know what will or won't work," he hissed.

Closing her eyes, she tried to keep her temper and figure out how to reach him. Then she looked at him to see him marching toward the front door. "Where are you going?"

He jerked it open. "Rufus wasn't done. I brought you home and am going back," he snapped. He took a step out the door.

"No," she said firmly and stood. Her heart raced, afraid of pushing him too far to the edge with her next words, afraid of inflicting a wound but even more afraid he would be damaged if she didn't do anything. "I forbid it."

There was silence. And then he slowly turned around. "You forbid it?" he hissed, his eyes glittering with anger. "As husband and wife, we don't forbid each other from anything," he said tightly. "We do not control like that," he growled.

"No...as your queen," she said firmly and folded her hands before her. Doubts were racing through her mind. Maybe she shouldn't do this. Maybe the therapy would be good for him. Maybe...but her heart was screaming for her to stop him.

His eyes narrowed and jaw flexed as he clenched it. "What?" he breathed, clearly furious.

Her heart slammed in her chest. She had crossed a line in their relationship and could never go back. It was a line she never thought she'd have to cross with him. She stood tall and met his challenging eyes. Her knees shook but her voice was unyielding. "As your queen, I forbid you to go back."

Time stood still, and the air quivered with electrified tension between them.

He walked out with a slam of the door.

She collapsed into the loveseat. She knew her General would follow orders, but she was worried just how much her husband would resent her.

Clarion laid in bed that night staring up at the dark ceiling. It was past ten o'clock and he was still gone. She wasn't even sure if he was going to come home tonight, not that she blamed him. She still felt sick with herself for what she had done, and doubt was creeping into her mind to make her wonder if she had done the right thing by taking his freedom like that. Maybe it really was therapy that would help him. What if it was his only hope and she had just ripped it away? After much tossing and turning, she decided to get up and go to the castle to read some more books about PTSD.

Putting on a dark purple dress that would hide her from predators better, she stepped outside to get a guard to go with her. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Milori sitting on the top porch step.

He was leaning his elbows on his knees and had his hands folded together. He half glanced over his shoulder and then turned back around, not dismissing her but not welcoming her either.

She was reluctant to apologize because she still felt in her heart that the therapy would hurt him. But she had taken something from him that wasn't right for her to have done. Walking over, she sat down beside him. "I abused power, and I'm sorry. But I'm not sorry that you didn't go back."

"Who says I didn't go back?" he asked quietly, his eyes focused on the fireflies dancing in the summer fields.

She didn't hesitate. "I know that no matter how angry you are, you'd never disobey Queen's orders. No matter the rift between us, you will always be a loyal General," she answered softly and folded her hands in her lap.

"No matter the rift, my wife comes before the Queen," he corrected quietly and turned his head to her.

That answer surprised her, and she realized he was listening to her even though he didn't like her opinion. She met his eyes and saw not anger but weariness. Reaching over, she took his hand in his lap. "I know you don't agree with me, Milori. I'm sorry for that, but I can't let you keep doing something that I truly believe will hurt you," she said in a thick voice. "I have never seen you that terrified and helpless, and it scared me," she whispered with tears in her eyes. She turned to face him fully and took both of his hands, forcing him to turn to face her. "I love you and don't know how to make you understand what I'm saying. I've seen you heal so much these past weeks, but this type of therapy is going to drag you backward and inflict so much damage. Yes, you need to remember the traumas so you can work through them, but they need to be in ways that your mind can heal from them," she said, desperate to reach him.

"You were right," he said quietly, his shoulders slumping and eyes downcast on their hands. "I didn't remember the electrocuting, and I can't stop thinking about it now. I keep having flashbacks to it tonight. I'm not ever going to get better." He looked at her, with tears glistening in his eyes, reflecting the moonlight. "I wanted so bad to be whole for you, but I don't think I can be. I don't think it's ever going to stop. I'm afraid of what else I can't remember."

She scooted closer and let go of his hands to wrap her arms around him. "Honey, you made so much progress so fast. You need to be patient. I'm not going anywhere. I'm content to just be together, and I want to help you through this."

He held her close, resting his cheek on top of her head. "I'm sorry I got so angry. I'm desperate for anything to fix this, and I'll probably need you to hold me back from rushing into something. I should have talked to you about it. I was so upset that I think a Queen's order is the only thing that could have stopped me. And I'm glad you did."

"Why are you out here if you're not still angry?" she frowned.

He sighed, but the slight smile was apparent in his voice when he answered, "Sometimes it's hard admitting your wife was right. Again."

She sat up and looked at him. "Oh, I like that! I've been in bed tossing and turning that maybe I shouldn't have stopped you, and you're out here licking your pride?" But she couldn't help but smile, relieved that things were smoothing over between them. "Come to bed."

They were cuddled in bed a few minutes later, the spring side of the bed allowing plenty of room for both of them to fit.

She was backed up to his chest with his arm around her in the dark when she asked softly, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, but I'll answer questions if you're wondering something."

"Is your wing paralyzed from the whipping or...?"

"I had forgotten about the shocks, so Spruce said it was probably cuts so deep in the muscle they caused the paralysis. But I remember now that I couldn't move my wing after the shocks." The nerve is probably damaged," he said with a shrug.

She rolled over to face him, their glows giving just enough light to see his face. "Do you have any feeling in it?"

He stroked her cheek softly, his eyes taking in her face. "No. If it wasn't for balance, Spruce would amputate it now. It'll probably need to go in a few years because I'll probably catch it in a door, hurt it while sleeping or something."

"I'll still think you're handsome," she whispered and brushed a kiss over his lips.

They fell into a content sleep while holding each other.

She startled during the night, completely terrified because she heard screaming right next to her in bed. Her heart slammed in her chest, and she scrambled out of bed for the light on her nightstand. Her hands shook terribly, but thankfully the fireflies started glowing before she found the switch.

Milori was on his side on his side of bed and thrashing his torso, but his limbs stayed motionless. His hands were together under his pillow, and his legs were together under the blanket of ice. The screams came a repetitive pattern. She was still groggy, and she was completely baffled what was happening. And then it dawned on her that he was dreaming of being whipped.

Darting onto the bed, she reached into winter and grabbed his shoulder to shake him hard. "Milori! Wake up! It's a dream!" she yelled over the screams.

His body was wet, and she noticed he was so worked up that his temper had risen enough to start melting the ice bed. She cursed, knowing his body couldn't tolerate such heat.

"Milori!" She tucked his wings down and then got up on her knees to set a hand on his shoulder and one on his hip. Leaning down fast and hard, she managed to roll him onto his back. Her hands flew up and patted his cheeks. "Milori!" she snapped. He needed to be under cold water. He had gone silent, and she feared he had been pulled under from a fever. Struggling to pull him up to a sit with all of her strength, she finally gave up. She ran into the washroom and got a large basin full of freezing cold water. Running out to the bed, she poured it over his body, ignoring the fact that it splashed onto her mattress.

His eyes shot open and he gasped, the temperature change a shock to his body.

"Milori, you have to get in the shower," she panicked and grabbed his hand to help pull him up.

He got out of bed but fell to his knees and held his head.

She snatched up her cape before going over to him in winter.

"Clarion," he panted as she helped drag him back to his feet. "I'm so dizzy I can't tell where we're going. You have to get a guard so I don't hurt you."

"You feel warm to even me. We don't have time for a guard," she panted as he leaned heavily on her.

They made it to the washroom with much effort and bumping into things. He got ill in the sink, so she ran over to turn on cold water in the tub. It took a great deal of effort between them, but they got him in. She threw off her cape and flew through their balcony to the kitchen to get the half dozen trays of ice cubes they thankfully had. Flying back upstairs, she dropped them in the tub, not even bothering to break them out of the holders. Feeling his brow, he felt marginally cooler. She sent the guards for Spruce and then frosted Milori as best she could because his talents weren't working.

Spruce arrived minutes later and froze the top layer of water. Then he examined Milori.

"Can you see alright?" Spruce asked as he flashed a light in Milori's eyes.

"Everything is blurry," he said weakly and started breathing deeply. "I need a basin."

She quickly grabbed one and held it for him as he got violently ill.

"What did you eat?" Spruce demanded when she took away the basin. He dug around in his bag.

"Rufus gave me some sleeping pills if the flashbacks got bad," he panted.

Clarion stared at him, not having any idea he was on medications.

"When?"

"A few minutes before ten o'clock," he panted.

Spruce listened to his chest with a stethoscope. "Do you remember the name of it?"

"It's in the nightstand."

She ran out and found a bottle of pills. When she brought it to Spruce, he swore.

"He's having a reaction," Spruce said and dug in his bag for a syringe. He injected medicine directly into Milori's vein and then dug out his stethoscope to listen to Milori's heart.

She knelt on the other side of the tub and set her hand on Milori's back. "Do you feel better?" The quiver was apparent in her voice.

He gave a slow nod, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"A side effect of the medication I gave you is drowsiness," Spruce explained. Then he turned his attention to Clarion. "The pills are known to cause reactions in winter fairies. Whoever gave these had damn well better catch up on medical training," he spat.

Her eyes grew wide. "Are there other meds winter fairies can't have that warm ones can?"

He made a short list after helping her get Milori to bed.

She relayed the therapy from the session that day and asked for his opinion.

Picking up his bag he said, "From the little I've heard of him, he sounds like a moron. I didn't study psychology, but I'll be floored if Milori doesn't have more nightmares tonight," he said in disgust.

"Did you know about the electrocutions?"

He hesitated. "When we took him into the lake when he came home, I saw red streaks and random burns that were concentrated around his wing. His wings were crumpled when he arrived, so I wondered but didn't want to press him for answers yet. I suspect the wires were attached to his wings, and his wings shriveled from the heat. For some reason only his broken one is paralyzed. Sled was able to straighten Milori's wings in the lake." He looked down at Milori. "He'll need it amputated completely one day," he finished quietly.

"I know," she sighed sadly and sat on the bed.

"He'll probably sleep off the medicine the next couple hours and then fall into a normal sleep. Get rid of those pills, and don't let that idiot give him anything else without checking with me first." He kissed the top of her head. "Get some sleep."

She couldn't sleep. She was afraid Milori would have a reaction again, so she laid in the dark beside him and listened to his even breathing. After an hour, she started thinking about the downward spiral he had suddenly taken. She had read how humans took turns for the worse and got caught in depression, drugs and drinking. Milori had signs of depression now and then, and her stomach churned when she wondered if the sleeping pills were the beginning of problems with medications. Thankfully they didn't have non-medicinal drugs like humans, and she knew Milori would never take up drinking...but the fact that he was taking pills and she didn't even know it scared her. Tossing and turning seemed to disturb him, so she went to sit on the sofa downstairs. She was scared and felt so alone. Curling her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs. And she cried in the dark.


	47. Chapter 47

A hand touched her knee when she was crying on the sofa. She startled hard and her head whipped up to see Milori.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" He gently brushed her tears away. "We need to talk to each other," he coaxed when she hesitated. "This PTSD can pull mates apart, and I don't want that. We need to work at being open. Even if I get angry about what you're saying, I promise I'll come talk when I cool down." His eyes reflected her glow, searching her face.

"I'm scared," she sniffled, her tears coming faster. "I'm scared of what happened at Rufus's office. I'm scared that we're going to start fighting. I'm scared that you're going to pull away or I'm going to smother you, pushing you away farther. I'm scared you're getting depressed and sleeping pills are going to become a problem..." she wept, getting worked up.

He sat back on the sofa and pulled her to him. "Come here. Sweetheart, today was a bad day. Shhhh, it's alright," he promised and rocked her in his lap. "I'm scared too. The sleeping pills were just a one-time thing and only tonight. I think the flashbacks were getting out of control because we weren't getting along. I don't know how, but I feel more in control of myself when I'm around you. The longer we're apart or the more agitated I am, the worse things get."

She laid her head on his shoulder, and he rested his cheek on top.

"I know the books talk about addictions and suicide. I don't want you to be afraid of any of that. I feel like I have moments of depression, but I don't think they're severe enough to not get through them. I..." He hesitated. "I feel awful about this, but I think that returning to work and getting a normal routine might help. I shouldn't ask you to cut short the honeymoon, but I feel like I'm losing control. I think this might help stabilize it," he apologized.

She nodded. "I've been thinking the same thing. It's so much fun being here with you and baking or doing things, but I see the strain showing in your eyes."

"We'll be here evenings and weekends. Every now and then we can take a day off too," he promised. "I'm sorry, Clarion. I thought I was ready to be a mate. This has been a terrible honeymoon. I promise to take you somewhere for our anniversary or when I get this under control."

She smiled softly and wrapped her arms around him. "We don't need to go anywhere. I just want to be with you."

He smiled, touched by her sweetness. "I'll tell you what. We'll keep Tuesdays as date night and go dancing and maybe out to dinner."

She looked up at him with a smile and whispered in his ear.

He barked out a laugh of surprise. "And lovemaking," he agreed with a smile. "Time for bed," he said and swung her up in his arms at the same time as he stood.

She smiled, feeling so much better after a good cry, and held onto his large shoulders. "I think it's against Nature to look this good," she blushed but didn't let it stop her from roaming her hands over his muscles.

He chuckled. "I see you've gone too long without a bedding, wife."

Instead of blushing and looking away shyly, she raised her chin and gave a haughty look. "Indeed. You've been a poor husband neglecting me so."

He laughed deep from his belly, making her smile. "Forgive me. I have neglected you for, what, twenty-seven hours?" he smiled and laid her down on the bed.

He slowly pulled up her nightdress. His hand skimmed up her leg to the curve of her hip as he kissed her lips but was careful to not take any of the nectar so she wouldn't get pregnant.

She sighed and grew restless as his hand worked wonders. Running her fingers through his hair, she tilted her head back for him to kiss her neck.

His hands skimmed up and tossed aside her nightdress. And then his lips moved down her throat to her collarbone and then to her chest.

"Milori," she whispered. Her hands ran over his back and shoulders, drinking in the feel of his rippling muscles. "I know we can't right now," she panted restlessly. "But I wish we could make a baby."

He smiled and pulled off his shirt. Then he tossed his clothes aside and laid down over her, continuing his delicious teasing. "I know, sweetheart," he whispered. "It's hard not kissing you. I want to fill you with a babe." Then he leaned to the side and watched his hand brush over her lower belly, admiring how her skin shimmered gold ever so slightly in response to him. Her dust slowly trailed down her body to congregate over her womb. It never failed to amaze him to see it glow brighter and then seep into her skin to nourish where a baby would grow, ready to support a life. He smiled tenderly, amazed by her body and awed by the thought that one day his baby would be safely nestled within her. She was so small and delicately framed that he worried if she could be able to safely carry a babe, but Spruce assured him that she could safely deliver a healthy child. His eyes drifted up to her face, waiting for the moment her instincts would take over. This moment never failed to humble him. And then it came.

She opened her eyes that shined in the moonlight as clear as diamonds. Then she reached up her arms for him to come, and he moved over her. She wrapped her arms around him tight, and he carefully eased his weight down, kissing her neck but wishing it could be her lips. The moment their bodies joined, he held her close and felt their hearts start beating as one. A warmth flooded through him, but it wasn't uncomfortable or painful, unlike other forms of heat to him. It spread up to his heart and their glows grew brighter. No matter how swept up she became in their lovemaking, she somehow always remembered to keep a hand pressed under his wing to support his crippled muscles so it wouldn't hurt as his good wing buzzed faster and faster. And then he felt the most precious moment upon them—their hearts bind temporarily and he could feel her emotions and sensations as strongly as she could feel his.

These were the moments that got him through the nightmares and madness that were gradually taking over his mind with each passing day. These were the moments that gave him strength to keep going, to keep fighting for her. Because in these moments, he found his sanctuary in the arms of an angel, who would open her heart and let her love wash over him like a tide. He knew that she was aware he could feel it because each wave of love grew stronger and stronger until he felt like he was drowning, but instead of death it brought new life. He always tried to let his love flow out, but he struggled with opening up or surrendering to anyone. And he regretted that his love could only flow out like a babbling brook when hers hit him with the wonderful power of an ocean storm. But she never seemed to regret it that he could only take more than give. Somehow each time they made love and their glows joined, her emotions for him only grew.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear, wishing he could give as much as she did.

"I love you," she breathed, holding him close. She felt his regret and self-confidence holding him back like a dam, but she refused any longer to temper her love for him. She could feel him lost and alone, so she opened her gates and let her love gush forth to shatter through his dam that he was unable to conquer alone.

He felt a plethora of love slam into him so hard he gasped in pain for a split second. And then it was calm. He drifted deeper and deeper until he was drowning in her love, and he didn't want to come up for air. He felt a tug in his heart, and then a rush ran through him. He had to cling to her, feeling as if he was going to turn inside out if he didn't hold onto her tight enough. And then he realized she had forced down the walls around his heart. He was afraid of surrendering and being so vulnerable, and it felt like he was swimming up to the surface of the ocean. He felt his walls go back up, as if he was standing on a cliff looking down at the sea of love below him but not a part of it.

She whispered words of love as she kissed his neck and shoulders. He had emotionally pulled away, and she felt empty as he shut her out. The moment their hearts had united had been shorter this time, but she continued to make love to him, knowing that one day he might open up and let go. He was too hurt today, and she realized she had pushed him too hard. One day his heart would bind to hers. She knew that he loved her as much as she loved him, it was just a matter of him learning to trust himself and her. One day their hearts, not only their glows, would become one. She believed it, and she would keep that faith alive for him no matter how often he stumbled trying to get to her.

For the first time in his life, he jumped. When he hit the ocean, his walls crumbled and he struggled to keep them from rebuilding.

She felt it for a moment, the searing heat that brought pleasure instead of pain. But it was beyond him right now, and his heart closed off a moment later and the heat faded.

He lifted onto his elbows to look at her, his eyes wide. "Are you hurt?" he asked, confused from where the heat had come.

She gave a soft smile and touched her chest where a faint red burn the size of her hand was over her heart. The burn was a beautiful ornate swirl.

He touched it with his cool fingers, horrified that he had hurt her. "Love, I'm so sorry. Let me heal it."

She caught his hand. "No," she said softly with tender eyes and laid a hand over his heart.

He looked down to see the same mark over his heart.

"Only a handful of fairies every thousand years love each other enough for their hearts to touch," she said softly in awe, her eyes searching his.

"What does it mean?" he asked, never having heard of this before and fearing that it might harm her.

Her face glowed with joy. "It means that our love can survive anything, Milori," she whispered. "It's just a physical symbol. It will fade and barely be visible, but one day when it fully happens, it will look like a smooth burn. But it won't hurt. When you feel alone and lost," she said softly. "Remember that I'm always here," she promised, looking into his eyes. She laid her hand over his mark, and he could feel her love.

"You did this," he said softly with tears of joy in his eyes. His voice cracked and he swallowed hard, not knowing how she knew how desperately he needed this when he hadn't even realized himself how lost he was becoming. Wherever he went, he would be able to touch the mark and feel her love.

She pulled him down and wrapped her arms around him. Their marks touched skin to skin and the exhilaration and serenity; soaring through the clouds and standing still on the ground; explosion of pleasure and calmness of love all surrounded them at once and grew more powerful as they made love.

He stood before the mirror in the washroom a bit later after showering to cool down. Clarion was sleeping peacefully, a soft smile still on her lips from the most emotionally bonding lovemaking they had ever had. Leaning his hands on the edges of the sink, he studied the light burn on his chest that didn't hurt. It was beautiful and reminded him of the intricate patterns in which Clarion frosted windows. He traced the mark with his finger, smiling tenderly at having something tangible on him that reminded him of her, that bound him to her.

He didn't have the heart to tell her that Rufus thought Milori had been exposed to so much evil during the tortures that it had blackened a piece of his heart and he would forever battle darkness. He felt the loneliness and depression beginning to surface from that dark corner of his heart. Every day it tried to consume him, and every day he fought several times to battle it back down. Rufus said that one day it might spread to his whole heart and the evil would change him forever. But Milori believed that as long as he remained surrounded by Bright Fairies, such evil couldn't fully flourish. And with Clarion's love he would never be lost beyond redemption. He laid his hand over the mark, so desperately needing to feel it under his fingers and think of her as the evilness tried to surface again. The minute he laid his hand over the mark, he almost fell to his knees with the intensity of her love that unleashed. He looked at his reflection with wide eyes.

A single tear rolled down his cheek. He could get better with her by his side. It would be hard and he knew would stumble and never completely heal, but he would learn how to fight, how to cope. And he would learn how to live again. And then he would find a way to stop the evil in his heart preventing him from loving her as strongly as she loved him. He could never tear out the blackness in his heart without killing himself, but he would conquer it. He pressed his hand harder over his heart and opened the gates.

Her love poured over him, almost as strong and powerful as it had been when their bodies had been physically joined. He sank to his knees, letting her love sweep him away and consume him. It grew, bathing him wave over wave, the crests swelling to the strength and intensity of a tsunami, no longer needing him to touch his mark to unleash. He could feel her love hammering and fighting to smash the evil in his heart. It could not win, but he felt the darkness receding into a corner. He knew it was only a matter of hours before the darkness would started creeping back out, but it was enough for now. The force of her love kept him down on his knees, tears slipping down his face as he was moved beyond words upon feeling his soul being set free from burdens that had begun to crush him. Closing his eyes, he let his head fall back and spread out his arms. He surrendered to her love.


	48. Chapter 48

Clarion woke up in Milori's arms with the sunlight streaming in through the windows. She stretched and rolled onto her back before turning to face him.

He was awake and on his side facing her, with his hands tucked under the pillow. A smile warmed his face when she turned him and tucked her hands under the pillow they were apparently sharing.

"Morning, husband," she beamed.

His smile lit up his eyes. "Morning, wife."

"Did you sleep well?"

"The best I've slept in months," he replied. "You?"

She scooted closer, but only for a second. "Yes. Oh!" she squealed. "You're cold!"

He chuckled and pulled another blanket over her. "I was on ice all night."

"You're usually half on my side."

"Then let me in," he smiled and started to scoot over.

She shrieked when he touched her thigh with a cold hand, and she shot over to the other side of her mattress.

He chuckled and stretched out on her mattress.

"Bed hog," she laughed and then squeaked when his hand started roaming. "I don't think so when you're nearly at freezing temperature," she scolded and pushed his hand away.

"Then warm me up," he smiled and caught her hand, teasing that he was going to pull her over.

"No!" she squealed and started rustling the covers as she scrambled out of bed.

He caught her around the waist and pulled his giggling wife back in. Then he threw the blankets up over their heads with a laugh.

He was leaning up on his elbow and gazing down at her.

Her giggles died, and she reached up to tuck a lock of his loose hair behind his ear and stroked his cheek. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, sweetheart," he replied huskily and leaned down to kiss her deeply.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him down over her, not caring that she was getting goosebumps. "Warm me up," she sighed against his lips.

Moments after he started kissing her, she started tasting a bit sweeter. His nostrils flared, inhaling the scent of her sweet nectar, and he kissed her deeper. Instincts made his wing start fluttering, and she pulled back the blanket so his wing wouldn't get tangled. The flutter sped up to a buzz.

He kissed her deeply, drinking in the nectar that made his hands tingle as white dust surfaced on his palms. He glided his hands over her, marveling that the dust always seemed to cool or warm her up, depending on her current temperature. He suspected it helped to create the optimal temperature for getting her pregnant. He started to pull away, not trusting himself to stop.

"No," she whimpered and reached out her arms for him.

He smiled but slipped out of bed. "When my dust wears off of your wings and your nectar goes away," he promised, slightly enjoying the fact that she wanted him so desperately.

They were having breakfast and taking their time starting the day because they weren't expected back at work yet anyways.

"Love?" he asked while she was reading the Daily Leaf at the table while he made toast.

"Hm?" she asked over her cup of orange juice.

"I need to talk to Dewey this morning," he said carefully and brought over their plates of toast. "I need to talk to him and Spruce about something." He sat down to her right on the end of the table and turned the chair to face her.

She set down her cup and turned her attention to him. "What's wrong? You never have to talk to them together unless it's something bad."

"Well, I don't want you to get scared. This sounds worse than it is."

"You're leading off badly because that has me scared." She sat forward in her chair.

"No, don't be scared. This isn't progressing, and Rufus didn't figure this out until yesterday." He took her hand when she paled. "He is quite certain that Bright Fairies being exposed to enough evil from the Alamur can alter the happy thoughts that reside in our hearts. Sometimes evil can creep in if exposed to it long enough."

"I don't understand. Is something wrong with your heart?" she asked, her eyes panicked.

Her hands were shaking. He rubbed them between his to steady them. "No, sweetheart. Rufus thinks I'm having so much trouble overcoming the PTSD because there's a small spot of my heart that he thinks is black..."

"Black? Will it spread? How did it get in your heart?"

"Clarion," he said firmly, seeing fear make her panic. "Calm down. It's been there for months and hasn't done much harm. It's probably from having extensive torture."

"No," she shook her head. "Anything Alamur will hurt you," she said with tears in her eyes.

He got her to calm down, and they headed out minutes later.

"I know nothin' about this," Dewey said in the winter library and scratched his head.

"You have to know something," she protested. "If you and I don't, no one does."

"Then we start doing tests," Spruce spoke up. "We look and see if it's altering the physical structure of his heart and if a metabolic panel shows any alterations in his sugar."

Clarion paced in the corner of the exam room at the hospital as test after test was done.

"Clarion, please," Milori pleaded. "You're making me feel like climbing the walls. Sit down. Nothing is wrong. This is all just to make sure," he promised.

He was lying on a table with half a dozen antennas connected to his bare chest and arms to get a cardiac readout. Having him in the hospital and being poked and prodded was new to her, and she was having a hard time handling the stress.

Spruce was finishing up the last test, an echocardiogram to see the inside of Milori's heart. Milori was on a table and Spruce was running the end of a hard vine along Milori's chest. A fruit bat was on the other end sending ultrasonic calls into the vine and then drawing what he was hearing for structural echoes.

"There's nothing obviously wrong, and the black area appears to be fairly small. I don't think it will spread. See, the black area appears to be hardened right here," Spruce said.

"Don't think?" she asked with raised eyebrows and stepped closer to see what the bat was drawing. "If it does spread, won't it harden more of his heart? And won't that cause it to stop beating?" She looked at Spruce.

He looked at Milori. "It's a possibility."

"It's a yes or no question," she pushed. "You can't tell me he's fine but his heart could harden and stop," she snapped. "Is it Alamur dust? What is it even?"

Milori sat up and searched Clarion's terrified face. "Spruce, is it possible to biopsy?" he asked without taking his eyes from her.

His eyebrows rose. "Yes, but the question is if this black area is something that might spread if pierced. We have no idea what it is. It might be Alamur sugar that is encased for some reason, preventing it from killing you."

Clarion paced. "I'm going to get Sleet." She was gone before they could respond.

"I've heard of this, but only in the severest form," Sleet said minutes later at the hospital. "It would happen often with prisoners. If they are subjected to enough torture, the evil from the inflicted wounds congregates into the heart. What's black is hardened, and it can't spread without more torturing. It can, however, spread to make the heart gray when it flares up. I've heard if feels like suffocating because the depression and suicidal thoughts become so consuming."

Milori glanced at Clarion next to him to see how she was handling this. She kept her eyes focused on Sleet.

"But it can recede again," Sleet explained. "This can be cut out, but it has to be removed in it's entirety."

"But the area it's in would leave a gaping hole in his heart. This can't be removed," Spruce added.

"So, if just pieces are cut out...?" she asked.

"It will regrow, and it might even spread," Sleet answered. He looked at Milori. "Being a small part of your heart, the black itself won't kill you. The battle will be keeping the PTSD under control so the evil can't spread and turn your heart gray."

Milori's face was expressionless. "Who says I have PTSD?"

Sleet looked away.

"Everyone knows?" she asked.

"Aye," Sleet nodded.

Milori dropped off the table onto his feet and pulled on his shirt. "Nothing like a first day back at work with everyone knowing I'm a mental case," he mumbled.

"No one is going to think that," she said and caught his hand.

"No. Everyone is only concerned," Sleet added.

"Right," Milori snorted. Then he pecked a kiss on Clarion's cheek and walked out.

"Milori!" She ran after him down the hall.

He turned. "Clarion, I really don't want to talk," he said, holding up a hand.

She wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Then she slipped her hand under his tunic and touched the mark over his heart, gently activating it to release a steady, slow stream of love to hopefully last all day. Letting him go, she looked into his eyes. "Remember that I love you."

Taking a deep breath, he searched her eyes. "I love you."

He left, but she was worried about how the day would go and how he was handling the news about his heart. And she was just worried about him.

Things were disjointed with the ministers when she returned to the seasons. Things were so messy that the ministers had their hands full just with their own seasons, and communication with winter had ceased altogether. So, Clarion sent a message to Milori.

Milori,

Things are a mess over here. Thank goodness we weren't gone a full week! Do you and your ministers have time for a council meeting this afternoon?

Miss you

He replied within a few minutes.

Please, yes!

Miss you too.

Things were a bit chaotic at the council table outside when she arrived. The ministers were all chatting, but her attention was diverted when everyone silenced and stood. Milori came around the table from winter with a smile and stepped into spring. She had to restrain the butterflies in her stomach when he bowed and kissed her hand, just like he used to.

"I'm about ready to runaway with you. Things are a mess," he smiled.

She smiled and didn't take her hand from his yet. "Dinner cannot come soon enough," she whispered.

He walked her to her seat at the head of the warm seasons.

"You're feeling alright?" she whispered as she slipped past him to sit. She craned her neck to look up at him.

He gave a single nod and then returned to his seat across from her.

Once he sat she said, "Let's start with the worst issues in each season. Any natural disasters in winter?" She looked to Milori.

"The avalanche we had this afternoon appears to under control for the time being, so no," he answered.

"Good. Minister of Spring, please update on the flood."

Clarion uncharacteristically jotted down some notes because her head was spinning already from the day, and she worried that she wouldn't be able to keep things straight otherwise. She glanced up once at Milori. He winked, and she ducked her head to hide her blush.

Nine months later, Clarion was soaking in the tub after a long day.

Milori walked in with a smile. "Hello, sweetheart. Did you get everyone off to the mainland for spring?" He bent down to peck a kiss on her lips.

She groaned and shifted slightly to have her back against the water jet to ease her aching.

"That bad?" he chuckled.

"Tinkerbell had an invention that didn't work, and we spent half the day picking up spilled supplies. I think my elbows can touch my toes, I was bending down so much," she groaned.

"Sit forward," he said and knelt behind the end of the tub. He started massaging her back. "Oh, sweetheart, you're so tight. Did you take any pain petals?"

"Yes," she sighed and closed her eyes in bliss as he worked loose the knots. "How was your day?"

"Well, Sleet is thinking of proposing to Silvermist."

She turned so fast that she winced when her back protested.

He smiled and turned her back around to work some more on her back. "It's a bit funny to see him with her. He turns into the biggest kitten."

"Are you sure she's safe with him?"

"I've trusted him with my life several times. He scares me, but he's trustworthy." He leaned around and kissed the side of her damp neck. "So, I saw Juniper again today."

"Did he say you can go to therapy once a month now instead of every three weeks?" she smiled and ran her fingers through his hair as he nibbled her neck.

"No," he mumbled, intent on his task. "He said every six weeks."

She gasped and sat up to turn around. "Are you serious?" she beamed.

He grinned and nodded.

"Ah!" She squealed and threw her arms around his neck. He ended up toppling into the tub with her.

He was witty and flirtatious throughout dinner and while they washed dishes a bit later. Then he dried his hands on the dishtowel when they finished and caught her around the waist. He started dancing with her in the kitchen.

She blushed and giggled. "What are you up to?"

He held her hand against his chest and wrapped his other around her waist to hold her close. He swayed with her in quick steps. "Juniper said he thinks in four to six months I won't need to come unless there are problems," he said and buried his face in her damp curls.

"I'm so proud of you," she smiled and turned her head to kiss him. "You've only had the couple flashbacks this month?"

"He says it's getting better so fast because of you being supportive. And dancing at the club every week probably helps," he said and rested his cheek against hers.

She threw her head back and laughed. "Who would have thought we'd be joining Mary and Gary there."

"And you look so much hotter than any female there," he said huskily.

She pulled back to give him a look.

"I don't even notice the other females, so you must be hot," he smiled.

"That was a good save," she said dryly and then stepped close to him again.

"No, it's the truth, love. Anyways...I was wondering if you want to talk about babies."

She pulled her head back to look at him in surprise.

He smiled. "You said a couple months ago you wanted to start trying once I was ready. I talked to Juniper about it, and he said he thinks the PTSD is pretty well under control. He said that's not a reason anymore to not have one." He couldn't keep the joy from his face. "Should we start trying for a baby, sweetheart?"


	49. Chapter 49

She answered with a kiss, throwing her arms around him tight and her heart filling with so much excitement and joy that she could burst.

He stumbled back against the counter with a chuckle while his strong arms held her safely. "I take it that's a 'yes,'" he smiled and pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. He leaned back against the island counter so they were the same height and could be eye to eye.

"Do you think we should wait a few days? It's not like humans waiting to know if a baby takes. If we make love tonight, I'll be pregnant in the morning."

"Well, do you want to wait? Is there anything you want to know about pregnancy or childbirth beforehand? I don't want you to get into it and then be terrified."

She let go of him to rest her hands on his chest. "Spruce actually took me to see a human birth about three months ago when we were at the mainland. It was an at-home birth, he said. A bit disgusting, but he said it's not all bloody like that for fairies. The mother did some screaming, but Spruce said it won't be that painful because you can use your dust to help me push out the baby. I was a bit scared at first, but it was so amazing once the baby came," she said in awe.

"Was it the first time you'd seen a baby?" he asked, unable to hide the tenderness in his voice but a bit saddened that he hadn't been there to witness Clarion's expression.

"Yes," she said, her face slightly scrunched. "Parents must love their babies a lot because they're a little red and funny looking."

Title: Single Chapter to accompany In the Warm Embrace of Winter  
Category: Movies » Tinkerbell  
Author: WriteYourDreamsTheyWillCome  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M  
Genre: Romance/Fantasy  
Published: 07-05-14, Updated: 07-05-14  
Chapters: 1, Words: 4,876  
Chapter 1: Chapter 1  
Author's Note: This is the M rated chapter that parallels Chapter 49 for In the Warm Embrace of Winter. Some readers requested an M rating to show the emotional bonding that occurs through more explicit physical intimacy.

I'm going to build the descriptions so readers can quit if they feel like it's becoming too much-before it gets explicit. There aren't really physical descriptions of private body parts-I suspect there might be some underage readers who sneak into this chapter.

She answered with a kiss, throwing her arms around him tight and her heart filling with so much excitement and joy that she could burst.

He stumbled back against the counter with a chuckle while his strong arms held her safely. "I take it that's a 'yes,'" he smiled and pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. He leaned back against the island counter so they were the same height and could be eye to eye.

"Do you think we should wait a few days? It's not like humans waiting to know if a baby takes. If we make love tonight, I'll be pregnant in the morning."

"Well, do you want to wait? Is there anything you want to know about pregnancy or childbirth beforehand? I don't want you to get into it and then be terrified."

She let go of him to rest her hands on his chest. "Spruce actually took me to see a human birth about three months ago when we were at the mainland. It was an at-home birth, he said. A bit disgusting, but he said it's not all bloody like that for fairies. The mother did some screaming, but Spruce said it won't be that painful because you can use your dust to help me push out the baby. I was a bit scared at first, but it was so amazing once the baby came," she said in awe.

"Was it the first time you'd seen a baby?" he asked, unable to hide the tenderness in his voice but a bit saddened that he hadn't been there to witness Clarion's expression.

"Yes," she said, her face slightly scrunched. "Parents must love their babies a lot because they're a little red and funny looking."

He burst out laughing. "Only when newborns, sweetheart. Come with me."

They flew to the mainland on Blizzard, and passed several human houses in a town until Milori landed them on a windowsill. He slid down and reached up to her.

"Are you sure it's safe to be this close?" she whispered and slid down into his arms.

"Yes. Can you hear the cooing?" he smiled and quietly led her along the sill.

"Cooing?"

He set a finger to his lips and pulled her up to the bottom of the window frame that was as tall as her chin.

Then she heard a high squeal and spitty-sounding gurgling. Peeking over the frame, she saw a white basket with a chubby little human inside. "What's wrong with it?" she frowned when it wasn't talking but making odd sounds.

"That's how babies speak," he smiled and slowly pushed open the window. He looked around. "I don't sense any pets."

"Pets?"

"Animals that humans keep. The parents are in the other room. Come." He leapt down and grabbed the curtains to slide to the floor. Then he looked up at her and waved for her to come.

Looking around, she fluttered down to him.

They darted across the floor, and then he scaled up the side of the basket. He climbed up on the edge and sat out of reach of the flailing little arms. "Go closer, just don't get within reach."

She landed beside him and studied the cooing creature that started squealing and flailing its appendages.

"He's happy," Milori explained with a laugh.

"He? How do you know?" She leaned forward to study the baby's face.

"I don't, but the females are usually a bit smaller. Babies squeak and fling their limbs when they're excited. Fly over by his face. Be careful he can't grab you because he'll squish you."

She slowly fluttered closer above his face.

The baby stilled and his blue eyes grew wide with wonder as he stared at her glow and sparkles.

"You look better than a new baby," she said, studying him curiously as she hovered above him.

"He's probably four months old," he said.

The baby suddenly squealed and started swinging his arms and kicking his legs.

Clarion startled and shot away.

His chubby little cheeks started to pull down at his mouth, and his eyes squinted shut. Then a wail broke loose and tears rolled out of the corners of his eyes. His little fists shook with a broken heart.

Milori scooted closer along the edge. "It's alright, love," he cooed soothingly and slipped down into the bassinet to the baby's head. He stroked the baby's cheek that was as tall as Milori's chest.

The baby hiccuped with tears and looked at Milori for a moment. Then a big tear rolled down his cheek and a sob from the innocent heart broke free.

She flew down beside Milori and slowly reached out to touch the baby's cheek next to where Milori was stroking.

Milori watched her face. She was studying the baby with curiosity, but the second she touched him, he witnessed her heart melt. In a heartbeat, he saw her fall in love with the baby, and his heart hurt with how much awe and tenderness filled him to the brim. If she could love a strange human child so completely within seconds, he couldn't imagine the love she would be capable of the moment she held their baby in her arms. Her heart never ceased to amaze him with the amount of love it held for every living creature in Pixie Hollow. But tonight he had another glimpse of the profoundness of her love that poured out of her without any effort. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to be able to hand her their own baby.

The baby silenced the moment she touched his cheek. He stared at her, so she flew back up to hover above his face. "Why are you crying?" she asked softly, truly perplexed.

"He likes to look at you," Milori smiled, still stroking the baby's cheek as they both looked up at her. "Probably likes your glittering."

With a giggle, she spun in circles for the baby to leave trails of pixie dust glittering in the air behind her.

The baby screamed with delight and then laughed. A glow escaped from his lips.

She and Milori stared in amazement, neither of them ever having witnessed a baby's first laugh giving life to a fairy. The glow floated out the window and toward Pixie Hollow.

When she looked down at Milori, he wasn't watching the glow but her. And it was an unbelievably tender look as if he was gazing straight into her heart.

"You amaze me," he said softly, holding her eyes. "Every time I think I've reached the heavens, you fly me higher," he whispered. "Each day I don't think it's possible to love you even more, but you show me the impossible, Clarion."

Her heart melted and tears gathered in her eyes. She flew down to land beside him and cupped his face between her hands. "I love this dance you've taken me on. Sometimes we stumble, but our hearts beat so much stronger together afterwards each time." When he cupped her cheek, she turned her head and kissed his palm, closing her eyes. "I love you," she whispered and turned her eyes back to his.

He started to kiss her, but the baby started fussing. He turned and threw a burst of snowflakes into the air, making the baby giggle and squeal. Then Milori turned back to Clarion to see her attention on the baby, watching the new being with amazement and her face glowing with love.

She didn't see Milori watching her with the same tender awe.

They flew back home together, and her heart was so warm and fuzzy from seeing the baby that she cuddled against Milori's back. It took only a moment for him to decide to slow down Blizzard so she could sit in front of him and he could hold her close.

"Milori?" she said softly when they landed.

He slid down and then raised his arms up for her. "Hm, love?"

She slipped down, not doubting that he'd catch her in his strong arms.

He eased her onto her feet but held her close as he gazed down into her eyes with such profound love he thought he'd burst.

She rested her hands on his strong chest and tilted her head back to look up at him. "I want to carry your baby tonight," she breathed.

"Are you certain? We can wait-"

His words were cut off by a kiss, and his heart started thundering when she guided his hand down to her lower belly.

"I don't want to wait. I've loved the time just being us, but there's too much love for two of us. I want a family with you," she whispered against his lips.

"Clarion, I wish for nothing more than to see you holding our baby." He ran his fingers through her loose curls. "I want you to know that I'm here for you to help you get through the pregnancy. I want to be there through the morning sickness, the first kick, your belly growing, and the labor and birth. Your body goes through the pregnancy and delivery, but you aren't going through it alone," he vowed and searched her face. "There will be unknowns being the first pregnancy of our kind, but I don't want you to be afraid. We'll do this together, and it will be amazing and exciting and beautiful." He kissed her brow.

She closed her eyes, leaning into his kiss. "I'm not scared because I know you'll be there," she whispered, deeply moved by his devotion.

He gently scooped her up and carried her into the cabin and upstairs.

She had thought about this moment dozens of times-the night his baby would take root in her belly-but never had she imagined how beautiful it would be, how close she would feel to him.

Slowly setting her to her feet, he kept his arms around her. He kissed her as he slid her dress off one shoulder, his lips trailing down her neck to her bare shoulder.

It tingled where his cool lips caressed her velvety skin, and she buried her fingers in his silky hair as her eyes slowly closed in pleasure. Her fingers hooked under his tunic and slowly peeled it off, creeping it up his body so she could give her full attention to every hill and valley as it was revealed. She adored his body not only because of its beauty but because it sheltered the soul she loved so deeply.

His stomach was hard and rippled with gentle ridges of what she had heard humans call a 'six-pack.' The muscles weren't overly defined and suited her taste just right. His hips had slight indentations from muscling too. Her lips grazed over his belly, and she felt his hands in her hair before they skimmed moved up her arms. She lifted more of his tunic, lightly giving a lick on his muscular chest. He shuddered, and she knew she had his full attention. She finally tossed his tunic aside, and her hands roamed freely over his muscles. The power in them still never failed to amaze her.

His shoulders were broad and could carry the weight of any burden life could throw their way. Her fingers skimmed down his shoulders to his biceps that took both of her hands to wrap around. Even his forearms were corded, to her wonder. She had proudly witnessed him lift things that even Sleet's substantial Alamur muscles couldn't.

Brushing a kiss over his collarbone, she felt the butterflies in her stomach come to life. She smiled to herself with giddiness. Then she pulled out of his arms. "Would you move the chair?"

He blinked. "Now?" he questioned with raised eyebrows.

She bit her lip to hide her smile and nodded.

He looked like he wanted to beg to continue their interlude, but the dear man walked over to the lounging chair that she knew was at least twice her weight. "Where?" he sighed.

"In the corner," she said with her folded hands to her lips in anticipation.

"What?! Really?...Alright," he sighed and bent to get ahold of one end underneath. He started dragging it.

She frowned, disappointed that she hadn't thought about it that it was too awkward for him to actually lift.

He set it down and started walking back to her with a smile.

"And put the other chair in its place," she said, pointing to the old solid wood chair in the corner.

He stopped, half way back to her. "Clarion, we are not rearranging furniture in the middle of making a baby," he said.

She gave him her sad-eyed look, knowing he couldn't resist it. "Please?"

He growled and walked over to the chair. This one was small but very heavy. He lifted it with a grunt and started taking it over.

She stood back and watched his muscles flex and bulge in his arms, shoulders, back and legs. Her heart beat a little faster. Then she saw his pants were a bit tight, and she frowned when she noticed his bottom even flexing. It definitely wouldn't do to let other females see him in those pants. She made a mental note that she needed to get new ones for him.

She walked over and set her hand on his bicep, pointing to the corner. Neverland, his muscle was so rigid, almost making her eyes roll back. "Right there."

He set it down, relieved to get back to what he preferred to be doing.

"Would you turn it?"

He bit back a reply and heaved a deep sigh of impatience. But he lifted and turned it.

She casually laid her hand on his back. The rippling made her sigh.

He froze. And then turned with his mouth hanging open and wide eyes. "You naughty girl," he gasped.

"What?" she asked, snatched away her hand and backed up with red cheeks.

"You wanted to see me lift heavy things!" he gasped with a smile and advanced.

Title: Single Chapter to accompany In the Warm Embrace of Winter  
Category: Movies » Tinkerbell  
Author: WriteYourDreamsTheyWillCome  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M  
Genre: Romance/Fantasy  
Published: 07-05-14, Updated: 07-05-14  
Chapters: 1, Words: 4,876  
Chapter 1: Chapter 1  
Author's Note: This is the M rated chapter that parallels Chapter 49 for In the Warm Embrace of Winter. Some readers requested an M rating to show the emotional bonding that occurs through more explicit physical intimacy.

I'm going to build the descriptions so readers can quit if they feel like it's becoming too much-before it gets explicit. There aren't really physical descriptions of private body parts-I suspect there might be some underage readers who sneak into this chapter.

She answered with a kiss, throwing her arms around him tight and her heart filling with so much excitement and joy that she could burst.

He stumbled back against the counter with a chuckle while his strong arms held her safely. "I take it that's a 'yes,'" he smiled and pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. He leaned back against the island counter so they were the same height and could be eye to eye.

"Do you think we should wait a few days? It's not like humans waiting to know if a baby takes. If we make love tonight, I'll be pregnant in the morning."

"Well, do you want to wait? Is there anything you want to know about pregnancy or childbirth beforehand? I don't want you to get into it and then be terrified."

She let go of him to rest her hands on his chest. "Spruce actually took me to see a human birth about three months ago when we were at the mainland. It was an at-home birth, he said. A bit disgusting, but he said it's not all bloody like that for fairies. The mother did some screaming, but Spruce said it won't be that painful because you can use your dust to help me push out the baby. I was a bit scared at first, but it was so amazing once the baby came," she said in awe.

"Was it the first time you'd seen a baby?" he asked, unable to hide the tenderness in his voice but a bit saddened that he hadn't been there to witness Clarion's expression.

"Yes," she said, her face slightly scrunched. "Parents must love their babies a lot because they're a little red and funny looking."

He burst out laughing. "Only when newborns, sweetheart. Come with me."

They flew to the mainland on Blizzard, and passed several human houses in a town until Milori landed them on a windowsill. He slid down and reached up to her.

"Are you sure it's safe to be this close?" she whispered and slid down into his arms.

"Yes. Can you hear the cooing?" he smiled and quietly led her along the sill.

"Cooing?"

He set a finger to his lips and pulled her up to the bottom of the window frame that was as tall as her chin.

Then she heard a high squeal and spitty-sounding gurgling. Peeking over the frame, she saw a white basket with a chubby little human inside. "What's wrong with it?" she frowned when it wasn't talking but making odd sounds.

"That's how babies speak," he smiled and slowly pushed open the window. He looked around. "I don't sense any pets."

"Pets?"

"Animals that humans keep. The parents are in the other room. Come." He leapt down and grabbed the curtains to slide to the floor. Then he looked up at her and waved for her to come.

Looking around, she fluttered down to him.

They darted across the floor, and then he scaled up the side of the basket. He climbed up on the edge and sat out of reach of the flailing little arms. "Go closer, just don't get within reach."

She landed beside him and studied the cooing creature that started squealing and flailing its appendages.

"He's happy," Milori explained with a laugh.

"He? How do you know?" She leaned forward to study the baby's face.

"I don't, but the females are usually a bit smaller. Babies squeak and fling their limbs when they're excited. Fly over by his face. Be careful he can't grab you because he'll squish you."

She slowly fluttered closer above his face.

The baby stilled and his blue eyes grew wide with wonder as he stared at her glow and sparkles.

"You look better than a new baby," she said, studying him curiously as she hovered above him.

"He's probably four months old," he said.

The baby suddenly squealed and started swinging his arms and kicking his legs.

Clarion startled and shot away.

His chubby little cheeks started to pull down at his mouth, and his eyes squinted shut. Then a wail broke loose and tears rolled out of the corners of his eyes. His little fists shook with a broken heart.

Milori scooted closer along the edge. "It's alright, love," he cooed soothingly and slipped down into the bassinet to the baby's head. He stroked the baby's cheek that was as tall as Milori's chest.

The baby hiccuped with tears and looked at Milori for a moment. Then a big tear rolled down his cheek and a sob from the innocent heart broke free.

She flew down beside Milori and slowly reached out to touch the baby's cheek next to where Milori was stroking.

Milori watched her face. She was studying the baby with curiosity, but the second she touched him, he witnessed her heart melt. In a heartbeat, he saw her fall in love with the baby, and his heart hurt with how much awe and tenderness filled him to the brim. If she could love a strange human child so completely within seconds, he couldn't imagine the love she would be capable of the moment she held their baby in her arms. Her heart never ceased to amaze him with the amount of love it held for every living creature in Pixie Hollow. But tonight he had another glimpse of the profoundness of her love that poured out of her without any effort. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to be able to hand her their own baby.

The baby silenced the moment she touched his cheek. He stared at her, so she flew back up to hover above his face. "Why are you crying?" she asked softly, truly perplexed.

"He likes to look at you," Milori smiled, still stroking the baby's cheek as they both looked up at her. "Probably likes your glittering."

With a giggle, she spun in circles for the baby to leave trails of pixie dust glittering in the air behind her.

The baby screamed with delight and then laughed. A glow escaped from his lips.

She and Milori stared in amazement, neither of them ever having witnessed a baby's first laugh giving life to a fairy. The glow floated out the window and toward Pixie Hollow.

When she looked down at Milori, he wasn't watching the glow but her. And it was an unbelievably tender look as if he was gazing straight into her heart.

"You amaze me," he said softly, holding her eyes. "Every time I think I've reached the heavens, you fly me higher," he whispered. "Each day I don't think it's possible to love you even more, but you show me the impossible, Clarion."

Her heart melted and tears gathered in her eyes. She flew down to land beside him and cupped his face between her hands. "I love this dance you've taken me on. Sometimes we stumble, but our hearts beat so much stronger together afterwards each time." When he cupped her cheek, she turned her head and kissed his palm, closing her eyes. "I love you," she whispered and turned her eyes back to his.

He started to kiss her, but the baby started fussing. He turned and threw a burst of snowflakes into the air, making the baby giggle and squeal. Then Milori turned back to Clarion to see her attention on the baby, watching the new being with amazement and her face glowing with love.

She didn't see Milori watching her with the same tender awe.

They flew back home together, and her heart was so warm and fuzzy from seeing the baby that she cuddled against Milori's back. It took only a moment for him to decide to slow down Blizzard so she could sit in front of him and he could hold her close.

"Milori?" she said softly when they landed.

He slid down and then raised his arms up for her. "Hm, love?"

She slipped down, not doubting that he'd catch her in his strong arms.

He eased her onto her feet but held her close as he gazed down into her eyes with such profound love he thought he'd burst.

She rested her hands on his strong chest and tilted her head back to look up at him. "I want to carry your baby tonight," she breathed.

"Are you certain? We can wait-"

His words were cut off by a kiss, and his heart started thundering when she guided his hand down to her lower belly.

"I don't want to wait. I've loved the time just being us, but there's too much love for two of us. I want a family with you," she whispered against his lips.

"Clarion, I wish for nothing more than to see you holding our baby." He ran his fingers through her loose curls. "I want you to know that I'm here for you to help you get through the pregnancy. I want to be there through the morning sickness, the first kick, your belly growing, and the labor and birth. Your body goes through the pregnancy and delivery, but you aren't going through it alone," he vowed and searched her face. "There will be unknowns being the first pregnancy of our kind, but I don't want you to be afraid. We'll do this together, and it will be amazing and exciting and beautiful." He kissed her brow.

She closed her eyes, leaning into his kiss. "I'm not scared because I know you'll be there," she whispered, deeply moved by his devotion.

He gently scooped her up and carried her into the cabin and upstairs.

She had thought about this moment dozens of times-the night his baby would take root in her belly-but never had she imagined how beautiful it would be, how close she would feel to him.

Slowly setting her to her feet, he kept his arms around her. He kissed her as he slid her dress off one shoulder, his lips trailing down her neck to her bare shoulder.

It tingled where his cool lips caressed her velvety skin, and she buried her fingers in his silky hair as her eyes slowly closed in pleasure. Her fingers hooked under his tunic and slowly peeled it off, creeping it up his body so she could give her full attention to every hill and valley as it was revealed. She adored his body not only because of its beauty but because it sheltered the soul she loved so deeply.

His stomach was hard and rippled with gentle ridges of what she had heard humans call a 'six-pack.' The muscles weren't overly defined and suited her taste just right. His hips had slight indentations from muscling too. Her lips grazed over his belly, and she felt his hands in her hair before they skimmed moved up her arms. She lifted more of his tunic, lightly giving a lick on his muscular chest. He shuddered, and she knew she had his full attention. She finally tossed his tunic aside, and her hands roamed freely over his muscles. The power in them still never failed to amaze her.

His shoulders were broad and could carry the weight of any burden life could throw their way. Her fingers skimmed down his shoulders to his biceps that took both of her hands to wrap around. Even his forearms were corded, to her wonder. She had proudly witnessed him lift things that even Sleet's substantial Alamur muscles couldn't.

Brushing a kiss over his collarbone, she felt the butterflies in her stomach come to life. She smiled to herself with giddiness. Then she pulled out of his arms. "Would you move the chair?"

He blinked. "Now?" he questioned with raised eyebrows.

She bit her lip to hide her smile and nodded.

He looked like he wanted to beg to continue their interlude, but the dear man walked over to the lounging chair that she knew was at least twice her weight. "Where?" he sighed.

"In the corner," she said with her folded hands to her lips in anticipation.

"What?! Really?...Alright," he sighed and bent to get ahold of one end underneath. He started dragging it.

She frowned, disappointed that she hadn't thought about it that it was too awkward for him to actually lift.

He set it down and started walking back to her with a smile.

"And put the other chair in its place," she said, pointing to the old solid wood chair in the corner.

He stopped, half way back to her. "Clarion, we are not rearranging furniture in the middle of making a baby," he said.

She gave him her sad-eyed look, knowing he couldn't resist it. "Please?"

He growled and walked over to the chair. This one was small but very heavy. He lifted it with a grunt and started taking it over.

She stood back and watched his muscles flex and bulge in his arms, shoulders, back and legs. Her heart beat a little faster. Then she saw his pants were a bit tight, and she frowned when she noticed his bottom even flexing. It definitely wouldn't do to let other females see him in those pants. She made a mental note that she needed to get new ones for him.

She walked over and set her hand on his bicep, pointing to the corner. Neverland, his muscle was so rigid, almost making her eyes roll back. "Right there."

He set it down, relieved to get back to what he preferred to be doing.

"Would you turn it?"

He bit back a reply and heaved a deep sigh of impatience. But he lifted and turned it.

She casually laid her hand on his back. The rippling made her sigh.

He froze. And then turned with his mouth hanging open and wide eyes. "You naughty girl," he gasped.

"What?" she asked, snatched away her hand and backed up with red cheeks.

"You wanted to see me lift heavy things!" he gasped with a smile and advanced.

"No, I didn't!"

He caught her in his arms, with a grin. "Yes."

"What?!" But her traitor hands couldn't resist stroking his chest that was still slightly contracted from lifting.

He threw his head back and let out a belly laugh. Then he held her close and kissed the top of her head. "Liar. Fine. Only because I want you desiring me as much as I do you..." He carried the chair to the middle of the room and stood up. Then he grabbed the wood beam in their short ceiling and did five chin-ups.

"Oh Neverland," she whispered, never having seen so many of his muscles flexing at once. She doubted there could ever again be a male specimen as perfect as him.

He swung out and jumped down before he put back the chair. Then he walked over with a smug grin as she stared at him starry-eyed. "Your turn," he grinned.

"What?" she blinked.

"Now you do what I like."

She wasn't sure if she liked this game.

"Get your hairbrush," he smiled.

"My brush?" she repeated stupidly.

He nodded, so she went to her vanity and brought it back over.

He sat on the edge of her bed and pulled her down to sit in front of him. Then he started brushing.

She laughed in surprise. "Brushing my hair gets you hot and bothered?"

"It's very feminine and innocent. I'm a simple male," he grinned.

Closing her eyes, she relaxed from the long strokes and from feeling his hands glide over her hair. It felt almost as good as one of his massages, the way it made her scalp tingle.

He swept her locks over her shoulder and kissed her neck. "You're so beautiful," he breathed against her skin and wrapped his arms around her. The contrast of his cool lips and breath against her flushed skin only heightened her senses to him. She could feel the pleasurable aching building low in her belly.

She turned her head to kiss him and held his arms around her. "I love you."

"I love you," he sighed and stripped both of them quickly before he laid her down.

She smiled when he laid down on her, pressing her into the mattress. Her arms wrapped around his back to feel the tension in every sinewy muscle. His lips captured hers, and his tongue slipped past her lips to stroke hers. She sighed and tried to wrap her legs around his waist, ready for him to put his baby in her.

He, however, wasn't done.

She felt him gently push away one of her legs, and he shifted his weight to the side without breaking the kiss. His cool fingers brushed between her thighs, and a gasp of surprised pleasure escaped her and her nails lightly scratched his back. He did it again, slipping his finger inside this time, and she broke the kiss when she gasped in pleasure. "Milori," she whimpered, her body trembling as she clung to him, desperate for release.

"Relax," he whispered in her ear. "You never let me pleasure you. You're beautiful. There's no reason to be shy."

"It's embarrassing," she breathed, her body tense as she sat on the edge of pleasure.

He wished she was comfortable with herself, but he knew it would come in time. "Touch me when I touch you then," he offered. "Maybe you won't feel embarrassed if we do it together." He wanted to witness her body soar and show her that he wanted her pleasure more than his own, but that would have to wait. He shifted slightly so her hand could reach between them.

She was surprised to feel him fully aroused when she touched him.

He smiled, his cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment. "The longer we're mated, the less it takes for me to want you," he explained.

Her brow furrowed. "I read that it takes more the longer one is mated."

His cheeks burned, but he didn't look away. "I love you more each day. I suppose I'm a bit odd. I release white dust just thinking about you, after all."

She wrapped her arms around him. "And it's so romantic," she whispered.

He smiled and his blush faded.

"Don't be embarrassed with me," she asked softly and stroked is cheek.

"Says the bashful female," he teased gently. "I want you to feel comfortable around me too. I want you to feel free to tell me anything, including in the bedroom. I want you to not be shy about telling me what you like or don't. We are intimate as a way to show each other our love."

"I know you don't do anything without respect," she frowned, unsure why he felt he ended to explain.

He smiled, adoring her innocence. "I'm trying to say that I want you to only feel love when I touch you. I love to see you enjoying our lovemaking. May I?" he asked, his hand poised but not touching between her thighs.

He was so concerned and respectful that her heart melted. She wanted the intimacy, but she was self-conscious yet. "For a moment," she blushed.

"Tell me when you want me to stop."

She kissed him, and he seemed to sense that it made her feel less self-conscious because he didn't break it as his fingers slowly parted her delicate flesh. He stroked, and she gasped when a deep pleasure made her arch her hips instinctively.

She clung to him, and he realized she was experiencing sensations she never had before. She was trusting him, and it made his heart beat with protectiveness for her. He slowly built a rhythm until she was moving with his hand, her moans making him wild but he remained steady and gentle with her.

She finally broke the kiss, unable to breath fast enough. She clung to him and panted in his ear. Her body trembled with desire and she whispered his name.

"I love you," he whispered and held her close. She was lost to desire, so he replaced his hand with his manhood and became part of her body. He gritted his teeth and pulled himself back from the edge. She fit around him so perfectly that his body trembled with hers, and then she reached the height of passion. It was almost his undoing.

He had always brought her pleasure, but this was far beyond anything she had ever felt with him. Her body flushed and she felt their hearts slamming as one in their chests. It felt as if he was soaring her up through the clouds and then she was spiraling out of control. She cupped his bottom to hold him to her, to ground her. Her hands fisted as she held onto him for dear life, truly feeling like she was falling. And then she felt him slide into her, and it was as if it was the last missing piece falling into place. Her body knew exactly what to do even though she didn't. Her hips arched up, and she cried out softly in pleasure when her world exploded into beautiful fireworks. She distantly heard Milori cry out her name and his body tense, pulling her back up into the height of pleasure with him. They clung to each other as their bodies soared through the heavens as one.

Her muscles became pudding as the flush rode over her body and slowly faded away. Her chest heaved as her heart slowed down and she trembled, barely able to keep her arms around him.

He was panting and his own muscles trembled as he raised up onto his elbows to gaze down at her. "I love you," he whispered.

She gave a tired smile and sighed, "I love you."

"I'm sorry," he panted. "I meant to pleasure you first, but that was so incredibly amazing watching you that I couldn't stop myself."

She smiled, touched that he had wanted her so much. "It was perfect," she sighed and her eyes started to drift shut, her body was so completely relaxed.

"Are you falling asleep on me?" he smiled, pleased she was satisfied.

"Hold me," she sighed and was half asleep.

By the time he rolled over to spoon her damp body, she was asleep. "I love you," he whispered and kissed her cheek.

He woke up during the night to feel kisses being sprinkled on his chest.

"Milori?" she whispered and then stroked his manhood that had apparently awoken before him.

He hissed in a breath of pleasure. "You have my attention," he half laughed and half moaned.

"If we're supposed to mate in flight, maybe a baby has to be conceived the same way," she whispered.

He stretched his sleepy large body that was quickly waking up. Opening his eyes, he saw the moonlight glinting off her big diamond eyes, trusting that he would know the answer. A smile tugged at his heart. "I don't know, but we can try that, if you wish. Somehow I don't think you'd object."

She smiled shyly and pulled him up with her. "Are you awake?" She set her hands on his shoulders.

He stood and set his hands on her bare hips. He smiled. "I'm quite awake now."

"Catch me," she grinned.

"Oh, I'm ready," he grinned, loving the playful side of her. She jumped and he lifted her by her hips to settle him on his hips. His wing was already buzzing when she giggled and wrapped her legs around him.

His eyes rolled back when he caught the scent of her nectar already. It still amazed him that males could smell their mate's nectar from miles away, yet no one else around could smell it.

Milori held her on his hips in his strong arms that she knew would never falter. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him close. She could taste her mouth getting sweeter, and she knew the scent was driving him wild. Her heart beat faster, relishing in the feel of his muscles tensing as he held her tighter. His wing buzzed harder than she had ever seen it. He kissed her, his tongue delving deep as if he was starving for her nectar. His tongue stroked in her mouth, sipping up every bit.

She pulled back just long enough to whisper, "Take me."

He needed no other encouragement. He folded her wings down and pressed her up against the wall. His mouth claimed hers hungrily, and he let go with one hand to press it against the wall to keep from crushing her. His slight roughness excited her, and she wanted to be his fantasy.

He ran his hands over her wings and softened them until they drooped and she was arching her breasts against him in bliss. He bent his head down slightly and took a rosy peak into his mouth, relishing in her soft moan. She squeezed her thighs around his hips, trying to raise herself up to give him better access. He lifted her slightly higher and softly sucked her beautiful breast as she ran her hands through his hair. Her gasps and whimpers drove him mad until he finally pulled away his mouth and sank into her.

She cried out as he filled her, and she felt their hearts beginning to find the same rhythm.

He felt his heart losing control, love building as it hadn't ever before. His heart pounded as he fell deeper and deeper. This feeling of letting his heart open when being intimate frightened him a bit, but tonight he didn't want to hold it back from her. Tonight he forced it to soar free.

She felt it. Never had he let her into his heart, although she knew he tried. But tonight she felt the mark over her heart grow warmer and warmer without hurting, and she knew it was embedding deeper to be permanently visible. Then a force slammed into her so hard she felt her heart struggle to continue beating-his love rushed over her. She gasped, and tears fell from her eyes because never had she felt his love so deeply. And never had she realized the profoundness of his feelings. She held him closer, cradling him in her arms as he made love to her in the safe haven of his arms.

Their glows became so powerful that the room was as bright as daylight.

She was exhausted and half asleep, so he carried her to bed and tucked her in. Then he climbed in after cooling off in the shower. She was sprawled out almost diagonally across the bed. He pulled back the blankets to scoot her over to one side of her mattress so there was room for him. If he was lucky, she wouldn't be into his side of her mattress before midnight. He hated sleeping on the ice because it was so cold she stayed away in her sleep, but sometimes he enjoyed having a night free of flailing limbs so he could sleep. Tonight he wanted to be with her.

In the process of scooting her over, he noticed her lower belly was glowing ever so faintly. He pulled the blankets around her so she wouldn't chill from being in contact with his cold body and then climbed in on top of her covers, using only a thin blanket over himself as he spooned her.

"I love you," he whispered. Then he let his hand drift over her lower belly through the blankets. "I love you too." He swallowed hard, unable to keep the tears of joy from his eyes. "We have a baby, Clarion," he whispered. "A baby as beautiful as you."

She barely woke up when she felt him scoot her over as he climbed in. A drowsy smile touched her lips, adoring the fact that he was such a bed hog he had to move her to the side because he must be worried about kicking her in his sleep. She distantly heard his words as she fell back asleep. Her hand slowly came to rest over his and laced their fingers together over her glowing womb.


	50. Chapter 50

Clarion woke up the next morning to see Milori sitting up in bed beside her and reading a pregnancy book. She smiled, rolled over and tucked her hands under her cheek to cuddle against his hip. It was strange to be with child and yet not feel any different. She had thought maybe her belly would feel fuller or she'd feel...just different.

He set down the book and smiled down at her. "Morning, sweetheart. Do you feel alright?"

"Mm hm," she sighed sleepily with a smile and her eyes still closed.

He slid down in the bed and brushed a kiss over her lips as he cuddled her close. "I was thinking that perhaps we should go see Spruce sometime today."

She felt his hand stroking her lower belly. "Why?" she asked dryly.

"Just to make sure everything is alright. You went for a prenatal checkup, and it only makes sense to do one now too."

"Milori," she laughed and opened her eyes. His amber eyes were shining brightly with love. She wrapped her arms around him. "Humans have a nine-month pregnancy and don't see a healer until the second month. I don't think we need to see him the first day of an eleven-month pregnancy."

"I know, I'm just nervous. Humor me," he asked, the concern escaping out of his voice.

"Alright, but I refuse to see him daily for the next eleven months," she teased. When he gave a forced smile she asked, "Are you worried something is wrong?"

He sighed and rolled onto his back with his arm tucked behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. She leaned up on his chest, studying his face. "Honey, talk to me," she urged.

He searched her face. "I'm just getting myself worked up."

"About what?"

With a shake of his head, he replied, "Probably silly things. I don't want you to worry about anything."

"Milori, we agreed to talk to each other." She leaned her hands on his chest and propped up her chin, waiting for a talk.

He sighed, realizing she wasn't going to give in. "I read about so many things that can go wrong during pregnancy that Spruce never mentioned. Spruce said nothing can happen to you because we are mated, but I'm just scared because you are the first pregnancy. Maybe something could happen to you or the baby that he doesn't realize."

Her brow furrowed slightly, and she scooted up closer to cup his cheek and meet his eyes. "Milori, nothing is going to happen."

"No, everything will probably be fine. I'm just worried because I can fight away hawks, help treat disease, heal a wound for you...but what do I do if the baby grows wrong? What do I do if something goes wrong with you? We don't know if I have any healing power over the baby." He searched her eyes.

"Milori," she said gently, feeling him pulling away emotionally and knew the blackness in his heart was feeding off his fear and spreading grayness with each beat. "You will still have some mate healing power over the baby. How else would you be able to help me during childbirth like Dewey says? Pregnancy isn't as risky for us as it is for humans. This isn't you talking." She set her hand over their mating burn on his chest, forcing her love to push the darkness back into it's corner of his heart. "Better?"

He took a deep breath, feeling like he could breathe again. The grayness had spread so gradually overnight that he hadn't even realized it. But he should have known Clarion would notice.

He gave her some mint leaves in case morning sickness kicked in during the day, and then he flew her to work. Pulling Thomas aside, Milori warned him to keep an extra close eye on her because of the baby.

"Milori," she warned.

Thomas hid his smile. "Congratulations. I'll keep an eye on her, my lord."

She finally kicked Milori out of the castle ten minutes later.

He was back thirty minutes later, before she had even left the castle for seasons rounds.

"Lord Milori, Your Highness," one of the guards announced in the study where she was at a desk reviewing things in a ledger with Thomas.

Thomas bowed out as Milori walked in with a grin.

"Honey, you can't be with me every day, all day," she sighed.

He picked her up and spun her around, startling her.

"What are you doing?" she asked with wide eyes. His grin was so big that she started laughing. "What?"

"Spruce said I have healing power over you and the baby as long as you're pregnant. He said a lot of the human issues aren't a problem for you and for us to see him as soon as you have a break in your day."

She smiled but cocked an eyebrow. "You won't let my day start so I can get anything done," she laughed. His joy was almost palpable.

He set her to her feet and then gave her a hearty kiss.

"You went to see Juniper, too, didn't you?" she smiled, glad he was more like himself.

"Nope," he grinned.

"No?" She cocked her head, surprised that he had overcome what she had suspected would have eventually built into a panic attack.

Pulling down his neck collar, he touched the burn over his heart. It glowed a soft gold.

Her eyes flew to his, unsure what was happening because hers would only feel warm if she or he touched it.

"Dewey says the love grows stronger the more it's touched," he said huskily and stepped closer to take her in his arms. "Sometimes the blackness suddenly rears up, so I touch your mark several times a day to make the blackness fade." He leaned his forehead against hers.

The sentimental feelings he had were palpable as they radiated directly from him to her heart. "My mark?" she smiled.

"Aye, you gave it to me," he replied softly, his voice low and husky and eyes tender.

Every now and then he slipped into his native slang by accident. Dewey suspected Milori had been born somewhere near Scotland, based on the accent. Clarion kissed him, her heart skipping a beat because his native slang always made his accent stronger.

"Say something sweet in your accent before you go," she whispered shyly. Every so often he would unleash his full accent for her in the bedroom, and she absolutely adored it. And she loved that she was the only one who knew he had a thick accent-he preferred to hide it from others because it could be so heavy that few fairies understood him otherwise.

"Ay don't want ta leave ye yet, me wifie. Yer even more beautiful carryin' me bairn than Ay imagined." Then he knelt, holding her hips between his large hands, and kissed her belly through the dress. "Ay love ye," he whispered to the baby.

Her heart melted so completely that tears pricked at her eyes as she watched him bonding with the baby. Then his eyes traveled up to her, the love in them stealing her breath away. He stood and kissed her with passion that was tender instead of erotic, and it made her knees weak. Then his lips moved to kiss the side of her neck, and she was instantly running her hands through his hair and clinging to him not with desire but with a need for her heart to be close to his. She felt their marks growing warm and his kisses hungry as the embers were stoked into a fire. Running her hands over his back, she marveled over how their emotions were so strong they were physically aroused by simply their love for each other. A smile touched her lips when Milori backed her up against the desk.

"Sweetheart," he breathed heavily and kissed her deeply, needing her.

She lifted her hem a bit, and he needed no further invitation. And he made her heart melt at the extraordinary gentleness he took with her and the baby.

He helped her sit down afterwards because her knees were still weak.

"You cannot come barging in here and have trysts," she scolded, her heart still pounding.

He half sat on the edge of the desk. "Ay wouldn't dream 'o it, sweetheart," he purred in a heavy accent and skimmed his knuckles down her silky cheek. A smug smile played across his lips.

"Would serve you right if it was twins," she huffed, not truly upset with him.

He smiled in a way that made electricity shoot up her spine. "Just think, we don't 'ave any restrictions on not kissin' while makin' love. Ay think ye'd be disappointed if ye lost out on one more pregnancy," he purred, his lips millimeters from hers as he continued stroking her cheek. He leaned closer with his finger under her chin to tilt up her mouth to him.

Her tongue grazed over her bottom lip in anticipation for his kiss and her eyes began to flutter shut. The heaviness of her wings still drooping from his dust only made her want him more. She tried to keep her head, but he was proving to be incredibly adept at seduction.

He stopped, just a hair's breath from her lips. "Ay should let ye get back ta yer work," he whispered and sat back.

It took a moment for his words to sink in, so wrapped around his finger she had been. Then she blinked when he stood up, looking quite pleased with himself. She stood.

"Tomorrow, husband, don't be late."

He looked shocked.

Then she sashayed to the door and blew him a kiss over her shoulder.

He burst out laughing, the wonderful sound echoing down the hall. She left with Thomas with a smile.

Doing rounds that day, she stopped by the tinker shop and pulled Mary aside in her office.

"Ahhh!" Mary screamed, making Clarion wince at the high pitch. "You're pregnant?!"

"Shhhh!" Clarion laughed as Mary threw her arms around her.

"Oh! Sorry. Did I squish the baby? Do you feel alright? When is she due?"

"No, I'm fine. She's due in eleven months," Clarion beamed.

"Oh, Clarion!" She hugged her again.

"Milori is worrying already that he might not be able to protect the baby and I if something goes wrong with the pregnancy."

"Are you worried?"

"No," she smiled. "I'm excited. He was almost ecstatic a little bit ago when he came to see me at the castle," she giggled.

"He came...?" she gasped with her mouth falling open. "He didn't!" she exclaimed when Clarion giggled more.

She nodded, giddy with delight.

"You naughty girl!" Mary scolded with a laugh, playfully swatting Clarion's arm.

When their giggles died, Clarion asked seriously, "Are you and Gary getting along better after Tuesday night?"

Mary rolled her eyes. "Yes. I'm sorry I stayed overnight at your cabin. We had a bad fight after the dance club..."

"Mary," she interrupted and set a hand on her shoulder. "You're welcome any time."

After chatting for a few more minutes, Clarion left to check on the other seasons. And to see if the new fairy had arrived yet from last night.

"Are you sure you should be flying around so much? Perhaps we should stop for a bit," Thomas suggested in the early afternoon after they had found out the new arrival had been a winter fairy.

"I'm fine. Don't tell me you'll be coddling too," she frowned.

"I'm responsible for you when His Lordship isn't present, so I will coddle, Queen Clarion."

She stopped mid-flight and spun around to hover. "I am not anyone's responsibility. I've gotten along for centuries seeing after myself," she replied firmly.

"Forgive me, you are in a delicate way, and all of us are worried about you being the first female pregnant and all. I meant no disrespect."

"Thomas, if anyone is questioning my capabilities..." she said, worried what rumors were spreading.

"No, I...I'm blundering this," he sighed. He took a deep breath and blurted with red cheeks, "You're a dear friend, and I just want to make sure you don't exhaust yourself. I'm nervous that you'll start having the baby, and I'll be the only one around and..."

She relaxed, realizing he was simply concerned. "Thomas, that is nearly a year away, and I promise you won't have to deliver the baby. It takes hours for a birthing."

He sighed with relief and nodded. "I've heard about human births, and I don't think I could take the screaming or bleeding or-" he said with a pale face.

She set a hand on his arm and laughed. "We'll leave that for Lord Milori."

He nodded. "Just remember if you get mood swings like humans, he's the one who did this to you, not I."

She laughed and they continued on their way.

Milori found her an hour later. "I thought we're going to see Spruce," he frowned when he saw her finishing flower counts with the Minister of Spring.

She looked up, surprised he had tracked her down. "I've been busy. What time is it?"

"Four o'clock. He has an appointment at the hospital at five but said he can squeeze us in there in fifteen minutes. We need to go."

At the hospital she sat on the edge of the exam table in a hospital gown after the nurse had taken her blood pressure and temperature.

Milori stood beside her holding her hand and grinning like a fool.

"I'm not sure why we need to be here," she sighed, with hospital anxiety setting in.

"Spruce and Dewey think you might start using up dust faster each day while pregnant, so this is just to make sure everything is fine," he smiled and brushed a kiss over her lips.

Spruce entered a minute later with a smile. "So, I hear congratulations are in order." He shook Milori's hand and then gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek before washing his hands. "How are you feeling, Mama?"

"Really, you two, it hasn't even been twenty-four hours. I'm fine."

Spruce smiled and walked over to the side of the table. "No nausea, cramps, swelling, sugar leaking?" he asked and listened to her heart with a stethoscope.

"No."

"Good," he smiled and looped it around his neck. "Maybe you'll be one of the lucky ones who breezes through pregnancy. Go ahead and lie down."

Milori helped her lie back and pulled up the sheet to keep her covered, and Spruce lifted her gown to bare her belly.

Spruce gently felt her belly. "You look ready to burst with excitement," he chuckled to Milori.

"No, I did burst about seven times today."

She laughed with Spruce.

"Alright, here is the fun part." He grabbed a jar of some pixie dust and sprinkled it over her lower belly. "Milori, stroke her stomach. Your dust will draw up the baby's and create a 3D ultrasound in the air."

Clarion smiled at Milori, excited that he needed to have a part too in seeing their baby.

He brushed a kiss over her lips and then held her hand as he stroked her belly.

The pixie dust rose to hover over her belly, creating a shape. She and Milori watched together in wonder.

"This is her womb," Spruce smiled and moved Milori's hand to massage her belly. "The baby will probably be light pink dust."

They waited, both excited to see her.

"She must be hiding," Spruce smiled. "Use both hands," he told Milori.

Milori gently pulled his hand away from hers and started a slightly harder palpation under Spruce's guidance.

She saw them glance at each other, no longer smiling.

"Is she too small? Maybe in a week..." she stated, her heart starting to hurt when she realized something was wrong.

Milori slowly withdrew his hands, his face crestfallen.

"Clarion," Spruce said quietly. "There wasn't any baby. I'm sorry."

She blinked several times. "But, my belly was glowing. It's never done that," she said in confusion as her heart broke. Her eyes flew to Milori, who was staring at the table in shock. "I don't understand. You took my nectar. My wings got soft," she said, her eyes searching his face for an answer, for him to tell her this wasn't really happening. Her breathing grew faster because her head knew what her heart refused to believe.

Milori looked away with tears in his eyes.

"Clarion," Spruce said softly, catching her attention. "Your dust should go to nurture the baby. As soon as there's viable seed, the dust will soak into your womb. It was congregating, prepared for fertilization to happen because your body could tell full intercourse for conception was happening," he explained sadly and looked at both of them. "I'm sorry."

"We just try having a baby again," she said, looking from Milori to Spruce. "Or maybe there wasn't enough dust to see her," she protested, her face crumpling. There had to be another explanation. She knew what Spruce was implying, but she refused to believe.

"Clarion," Milori said in a thick voice and walked to the window with a hand over his mouth to hold back tears. "We have tried. Twice, which should be more than enough. I'm sterile."

She shook her head and sat up. "No. No! You said he might have trouble getting me pregnant because of his wing. You never said he was sterile! You said we can do IVF if the natural way didn't work," she hiccuped, her heart breaking.

"I said we weren't able to do full tests on him without you, and I suspected he would have difficulty releasing enough dust."

"My wings get soft and droop," she protested, her voice breaking

"Are they soft enough for him to crumple in his hand?" he cut in sadly.

She knew they weren't and looked over at Milori. He was running his hand over his hair, his back to her as he faced the window and rested a hand on his hip. He turned around, his tear slipping free.

"It's not your fault," she said softly and held out her hand to him.

"I'll give you two a minute," Spruce said quietly and stepped out.

Milori walked over and took her hands, closing his eyes as another tear ran down his cheek. "I'm so sorry. I told you that I'd help you find a mate to replace me, before I realized my lifespan lengthens to match yours, so you could have a baby. I won't revoke my promise of a child, Clarion. Insemination will work with another male. He can use his mate to release seed and Spruce can collect it. Then the male just needs to soften your wings with his dust, and Spruce can inseminate-"

"No."

He was silent, keeping his eyes downcast and not even reacting.

"I'm not carrying another male's child. I would hate doing it, and I'm not going to make you suffer through that. I know you, Milori. I know how much it would hurt you to see me carry another's child." She had to draw a sharp breath to try to slow her tears. Cupping his cheek she sniffled and promised, "We don't need a baby. I love you, and we'll be happy just us." Taking a shaky breath, she wept, "You lost your wing because of me. And now it's cost you a baby."

When he opened his eyes to meet hers, her heart twisted so hard that a whimper escaped her.

Tears brimmed in his sorrow-filled eyes. "Not a day has gone by when I regretted it because it means having you," he whispered. Then he sniffled, two large tears rolling down his cheeks. "Today I failed to give you what you want most, and it's a pain from which I cannot protect you," he whispered, the grief from him so strong that her mark over her heart throbbed with his pain.

She wrapped her arms around him, weeping not only for a baby they could never have but also for the guilt and pain he felt.

They fell asleep holding each other that night.

Clarion startled in her sleep from a nightmare. She had dreamed about having a swollen belly but giving birth to nothing. But it was the grief in Milori's eyes when Spruce handed him an empty blanket that woke her up.

She wandered into the nursery, slowly walking around the room and letting her fingers graze over the crib railing, changing table, dresser, rocking chair and bookcase. They had picked out toys, books, blankets and clothes for a baby who would never arrive. The room was ready to hold a baby in this safe haven, but it was to remain empty, as would she.

Clarion slowly sat in the rocking chair and began rocking, resting a hand over her barren belly.

Milori walked in a few minutes later in his robe, rubbing his bleary eyes. "Sweetheart, come back to bed," he said in a thick voice. He had been up late crying with her.

She kept rocking, her eyes staring at the wall numbly. "Did she die?" she whispered, barely able to bring herself to say the words. "Something is wrong. It hurts too much to just be nothing happened," she said with a hand over her heart.

He knelt before her and rested a hand over hers on her belly. His face crumpled, and he brushed his hand under his nose when he started to sniffle. "I..." His voice broke, and his tears fell. He looked like his heart was tearing open. "I talked to Spruce more after you were asleep because I hurt so much too, and..." He took a sharp breath and his lip quivered. His hand tightened over hers as he bowed his head, struggling to find strength to talk.

Tears filled her eyes.

He looked up at her, his cheeks glistening in the moonlight from tears. "He said the ultrasound showed the seed wasn't strong enough to support more than a few hours of growth. He said he thought it best to tell us that nothing happened," he sniffled. "I'm so sorry."

She sucked in a quivering breath with a hand over her mouth to stop her sobs.

He wrapped his arms around her. And they held each other tight as they wept.

Clarion needed to get out of the house the next day, despite the rain. She couldn't stop thinking about the baby or that Spruce had learned that Milori's seed was so weak from his damaged wing that it was amazing any fertilization had even occurred. So, she went to work to try to get her mind off things.

Thomas saw their solemn faces when Milori took her to the castle. He immediately wrapped his arms around Clarion and gave Milori a gruff hug too without a word.

"I'll keep a close eye on her," he promised Milori.

"I'll be in winter...trying to be busy," Milori said sadly, wishing he could be with Clarion but knowing she was having a hard time being around him without crying.

She gave Milori a hug goodbye. "I don't blame you," she sniffled, worried he was getting the wrong message.

He stroked her cheek and studied her eyes. "I know. You need to get away from it for a bit," he said in understanding.

"I feel like I'm going crazy at home. Will you be alright at work?"

"I'm more worried about you. Remember to send for Spruce and I if you have any of those physical complications I told you that he mentioned."

She nodded and swallowed hard, not wanting to talk about it.

She stayed close to Thomas, who screened many of her messages and callers for her.

"Would you like to see Fairy Mary?" he asked gently half way through the day when she couldn't seem to concentrate on anything but stare at the wall.

She nodded slowly and let him guide her to the tinker shop.

Mary came out looking confused why Thomas has summoned her outside.

The tears burst out as soon as she saw Mary.

Mary flew over and wrapped her in a hug instantly. "Oh, dearie, it's going to be alright," Mary promised, realizing what had happened, and she softly wept herself.


	51. Chapter 51

Milori arrived home before Clarion—well before. It was nearly dusk when she arrived, but he restrained himself from going in search of her. She probably needed time away from home to work through the grief. He had a hard time concentrating all day at work because he was worried how she was doing and if her body was holding up. Spruce and Dewey had no idea if she would physically miscarry like a human or if the baby and dust would just absorb back into Clarion. He had shown up once before lunch to check on her, but she had started crying again. So he had sent Thomas missives twice in the afternoon to make sure she was alright because he worried if his presence would make her feel sad again. Clarion finally walked in through the door, her wings drooping and shoulders weary.

He was making spaghetti in the kitchen when she walked in and sat down at the island where he was cooking. She stared at the counter.

Milori wanted to bound over and wrap her in his arms, but he knew she was barely keeping it together and might tip over the edge with even a kiss on her brow. So, he stayed on the other side of the counter and set down the noodles so she knew she had his attention if she wanted it. "Do you want to talk?"

"No," she replied softly without emotion.

Her eyes were slightly puffy as if she had been crying a lot today.

"I think I'm just going to go to bed." She slowly got up. Then her eyes met his for the first time all day. "Are you coming soon?"

He searched her face that was overflowing with pain that was both emotional and physical. "I'm not really hungry. I was making dinner for you. I'll be up in a minute after I put this in the fridge."

She nodded and turned to leave. Her step faltered ever so slightly that no one but a winter fairy would see it.

His eyes narrowed, and he saw her hand move but a millimeter toward her stomach before she relaxed. "You're hurting," he frowned and hurried over to her. Taking her hand, he wrapped his other around her waist to stand beside her. "Do you need to see Spruce?" he asked calmly, trying not to let his panic show so she wouldn't get scared.

She shook her head.

"Are you losing sugar?"

"No, just some cramping a few times today."

He gently lifted her up and took her upstairs.

"I'm fine," she protested weakly, so drained from crying all day. "I'm just going to get a bath and—"

He set her down. "He said to avoid bathing until we know if you'll leak sugar. You might get an infection," he reminded her gently and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

She leaned away without looking at him.

His hand fell to his side, and he stared at her with a broken heart. "Are you angry with me?" he asked softly, his heart hurting.

She didn't move.

He thought she wasn't going to speak to him, but then her chest started heaving.

"I'm so angry," she whimpered as she broke down. "I shouldn't be this upset when she wasn't even actually a formed baby. When we never even got to touch or see her," she hiccuped with tears streaming down her face.

When she looked up at him, tears sprang to his eyes upon witnessing how much pain she was in.

"I can't be around you because you remind me of what we lost. But I don't know how to deal with this by myself, and I don't want you to be alone."

He silently cried as he gathered her to him and held her close while she sobbed. "It hurts because we loved her. It doesn't matter how old she was. Yes, it would be harder if it had happened later into the pregnancy or after birth, but we don't love her any less. I want to be here for you, sweetheart, but I don't know how to deal with this either. Fairies aren't meant to know such sadness, so we can't handle it well. This is something none of us have had to deal with, so we have to blunder through it together. We'll get through this, and it'll hurt a little less every day," he promised, the pain of the loss compiled with Clarion's grief that it was all he could do to remember to keep breathing, hoping he could be strong enough to get her through this.

He worried about her over the next weeks. She threw herself into work. And avoided physical intimacy with him, although her body had no complications. Spruce wanted to do an exam to make sure everything was fine, but she refused. So Spruce told them to what to watch for in case she got an infection. She was so exhausted by the end of each day that she fell asleep as soon as she got home, half of the time skipping dinner. Milori knew she didn't blame him, but they interacted so little anymore that he wasn't sure. So he would seek his comfort during the night when she was asleep—he would spoon her while she was sleeping and pretend she had wanted him to hold her. After two weeks, everything finally exploded.

She came home looking exhausted and gave her customary mumbled 'hello' on her way past him in the living room as she headed to the bedroom. "I'm going to sleep."

He shot up from his spot on the sofa and stormed after her. He had been nervously watching the clock tick until she had arrived well after dark, and his nerves were finally shot. Slamming the bedchamber door behind them just to release some of his anger, he boomed, "Where the hell have you been for the last six hours?!"

She spun around with wide eyes. Then her eyes narrowed angrily. "I'm the queen. I don't have to report to you," she hissed and marched into the closet to get a nightdress out.

He followed her to the middle of the room as she started getting things out to shower. "Don't you dare pull that card!" he snapped, his eyes burning through her as she went around the room. "We agreed when we mated that longer than two hours late and we give notice to each other. Six hours! I didn't know if I should go looking for you, or if you'd rip my head off for it!"

"I was busy," she replied without interest and grabbed a leaf towel and added it to the pile of clothes she was about to take into the washroom.

He finally snapped. Snatching up the towel and clothes, he spun around and threw them out the balcony door. They fluttered down into the living room. He spun around to her.

"That was really mature," she said tightly.

"I don't care," he hissed, his eyes flashing as he thrust a finger at the ground. "You have been pretending like I don't exist for two weeks. I will not throw us away because we lost a pregnancy!" he shouted, at his wits end with trying to get through to her. "I know you can't stand me because it's my fault the baby died and I can't give you more babies, but this is not the end of us!"

She spun away to walk out. He was digging in her wound that was raw and painful yet, refusing to heal. And she couldn't stand the pain.

"Dammit, stop pushing me away! Talk to me!" he snapped and caught her wrist.

"Stop it!" she yelled, jerking her hand away. He touched her. Whenever he touched her it made the mark over her heart come alive, and she would feel the pain she could otherwise lock in a box to stay numb. She backed away from him. "I can't stand you touching me! I can't stand this house! I can't stand being in this barren body!" she cried, her grief suddenly releasing like an angry flood. She ran her hands through her hair, not even knowing what to do with the pain that was beginning to drown her. "Get out," she wept, her hands shaking because she was so angry.

"What?" he whispered, staring at her in shock with tears in his eyes.

She knew her words had cut him, but she was so lost herself that she didn't know how to help him through his grief. If he stayed here, she knew she'd only hurt him more. She turned away. "Get out of the bedchamber."

He slowly walked out of the room with a broken heart.

She wept in the shower and in bed before she finally fell asleep.

He had to sleep on ice so he didn't overheat, so he entered a bit later, too heartbroken to even touch her that night in her sleep.

She woke up during the night and heard intense retching in the washroom. Rubbing her eyes, she looked at the clock to see it was one o'clock. She got up and went to the washroom door. "Milori?" Opening it, she saw him heaving in the sink and his bare torso was wet with perspiration. "Oh Neverland," she whispered in horror. She hurried over and felt his back to find him burning up with fever.

She flew downstairs and got a basin for him. Returning to the washroom, she found him dry heaving. "Honey, we have to get you in winter. I think you have influenza, but your body can't handle a fever in a warm season."

He started to collapse when she tried to help him out of the washroom. His heart was beating far too fast.

"Thomas!" she yelled and turned on the cold shower. "Thomas!" She ran back over to Milori, who was getting worse before her eyes. Half dragging Milori, she got him under the cold water but was afraid to leave him when he fell unconscious. She ran to the window in the washroom and raised her hands to blow it out with the force of pixie dust. "Thomas! Have a winter guard get Spruce!" she called over to the tower on the side of the cabin. A fairy left the tower a moment later, and she ran back to find Milori flushed even under the cold water.

"Winter fairies rarely get influenza, but it's severe if they do," Spruce said after helping her get Milori tucked in bed. "Is it going around the warm seasons?"

She nodded and looked down at Milori in a restless sleep. "I probably brought it to him. I've been checking in on fairies at the hospital. It seems to be a milder version than a few years ago, but it's still putting many in the hospital."

"I'll stop by twice a day to check on him. Have Thomas or someone help get him in a cold bath twice a day. Is it a fast flu?"

"Two or three days at most. Does he need fluids?"

"I'm worried about it getting too warm for his fever. The bag will freeze in winter, but it won't be cold enough for him in spring. I think I'm going to do a large injection and see how he does until morning."

She lightly frosted Milori to help cool him down when he started melting the bed from being so warm.

His eyes fluttered open when Spruce was giving a second, large injection of icy fluid slowly into Milori's arm vein. "Hey, there," Spruce smiled. "I guess this is helping. Giving you some fluids so you don't dehydrate. You have a nasty case of the flu, my friend."

"Is Clarion sick?" he asked weakly, even the movement from breathing making him nauseous.

"Not so far. She's right there." He nodded to the spring side of the bed.

Milori swallowed hard, trying to keep his stomach under control and turned his head only a millimeter toward her.

She scooted closer, still holding his hand on his bed even though hers was starting to burn from being so cold. "Hi, honey. We think it'll only last two or three days. It seems to be worse the first twenty-four hours. How long were you getting sick before I came in?"

"Don't know," he breathed, his stomach starting to roll. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes to try to keep the room from spinning.

"Hold on for just a couple more seconds," Spruce said, trying to push the fluid in faster. He withdrew the syringe and held pressure over the puncture wound just in time for Clarion to shove a basin in Milori's lap just for Milori to get sick.

She sat on her side of the bed all night frosting and bathing him with cold water as the fever raged. The dear man didn't complain one peep when he continued to get sick every fifteen minutes. Spruce had left a couple syringes of fluid in the fridge just in case, with directions to leave them in the freezer for five minutes before use. When Milori's lips became dry and his skin not regaining color quickly when she pressed on his arm, she got another syringe.

"Alright, I've never done this, so I apologize if you get a large bruise," she said, a bit nervous even though Spruce had taught her exactly what to do on the chance Milori got worse while he was gone attending to other winter fairies, who started coming down with the flu that night too. She put on her cape and knelt beside his bed. He laid down his arm, and she knew they only had about eleven minutes before he would get sick again.

She used a tourniquet Spruce had left and tied it around his bicep. "Squeeze a fist a couple times, honey," she said softly. She had to lightly touch his warm chest to remind him because he was so focused on trying to keep his stomach calm so she could do this.

His veins started to bulge as he pumped his fist, and she found one that she thought was her best chance of not blowing it. After cleaning the spot, she picked up the large syringe that was heavy with the several cc's of fluid it contained. He was breathing heavily with his eyes closed, and she knew they were quickly running out of time before he'd need to sit up and get sick. "Alright, love. Hopefully this works." She slowly pierced the needle through his skin and pulled the plunger to make sure she got sugar to know she was in the vein. Then she removed the tourniquet and started pushing the plunger. He was starting to pant from nausea when she only had half of the fluid in. "Hold on, honey."

"I can't," he panted.

"Sweetheart, you need all of this, and the needle is dirty as soon as I pull it out," she pleaded, hoping he could fight it back. "Slow down, you're breathing too fast," she coached gently and breathed with him to slow him down. As soon as she got all of the fluid in him, she pulled out the syringe and held pressure. He rolled onto his other side where she had the basin waiting and got sick.

"You don't have to stay," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper when she came out with a clean basin. His brow was damp again already from the fever.

"Of course I'm staying." She sat back on her side of the bed and frosted him slowly to get a thicker layer on him, but it melted almost as soon as it touched his skin.

He closed his eyes, and she knew he was dizzy. He tried to swallow back the nausea, but his mouth was too dry. He brought up any amount of water she gave, so she leaned over to his nightstand and took a couple ice chips out of a bowl to set to his lips. "Here are some ice chips," she said and gently slipped them past his lips. They melted only seconds later when she saw him swallow. "I'm going to see if Sleet is on duty yet. You need to get in the tub because I think your fever is going up."

Thankfully Sleet, who was new to the cabin night watch, had arrived minutes ago. And Alamurs couldn't catch influenza.

He lifted Milori, who was semiconscious, with some effort. "Why isn't he at the hospital?" Sleet demanded as he lowered Milori into the ice bath.

She knelt beside the tub to help Sleet hold Milori above water when he fell unconscious again. "He can't really tolerate the warm air with his fever," she fretted and started scooping the water over Milori's shoulders and neck. She dipped a rag in the water and set it on his brow, worried about his brain overheating.

"Hell with this." Sleet picked up Milori, who was completely limp and soaking wet.

"What are you doing?" she panicked and stood.

"Cut your finger and rub the sugar on my wings."

"What?! Sleet, put him back in the water," she snapped. "Don't you dare play games."

"Dammit, do it! Alamur wings get temporarily stronger if sugar is shed on them!" he barked. "I'm taking him to Frost Lake. It'll be so cold the fever will leave him. Do it!" he snapped when she hesitated. "I saw it work once!"

She knew Milori was getting worse by the minute, so she grabbed Milori's razor and slashed it over her wrist to get sugar out the fastest.

"What the hell?! I said finger. Dammit, now you're going to bleed out while I'm gone with him!"

"Milori can heal it," she said and stepped around him. She rubbed her sugar all over his wings and then flew back around to Milori. She set his hand over her wrist and held it there for a moment until it started to feel cold. She let go of his hand, her wound sealed over enough, and Sleet shot out the broken window with Milori.

She paced for the fifteen minutes they were gone and was about to grab her cape and go after them when she saw glows in the distance. It was snowing in winter, so she couldn't tell it was them until they were nearly to the cabin.

Sleet laid Milori in bed.

"He's cooler," she said with relief and tucked the ice blanket up to Milori's chin. "And he's not flushed."

"Give him some water now before he warms up again. He should be able to keep it down." He helped her prop up Milori with pillows, and set set a cup to Milori's lips.

"Milori, drink some water," she coaxed and softly stroked his throat.

He swallowed by reflex but was starting to come around after a few minutes when she continued talking to him. She felt terrible when he started drinking like he'd never see water again and she had to take it from him. He licked his lips, his mouth dry again from being so dehydrated.

"I'm sorry. You'll get sick if you have too much," she apologized and helped Sleet lay him down again.

Milori was asleep an instant later.

Clarion turned to Sleet, who looked as scary as he ever did, but she saw a soft side of him that must be what Silvermist could see. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought it possible, but she hugged him. "Thank you," she whispered with tears in her eyes.

He gently pushed her away, embarrassed by the sentiment. "He's my general," he said gruffly.

She smiled softly, knowing he was hiding his sentiment for Milori.

"For shit sakes, don't let him get that warm again," he scolded and boarded the window. Then he flew back to his post, cursing the entire way back.

She smiled to herself and held vigil until Milori woke up hours later.

He had ice packed around him and was in the tub. Clarion was kneeling and holding him up. One of his arms was taped up with two intravenous lines.

"Hello, honey. Are you feeling better?"

"Kind of."

"Sorry," she said with a sheepish look. "Spruce took ill too, so Sleet and I are playing healer. He seems to know what he's talking about, and I haven't blown more than one of your veins, so I think we're doing alright. Oh, and you're still alive," she smiled and slipped her hand into his. "Sleet ran to winter to get more ice for your bed because you melted through it. It's been about twenty-four hours, so I think the worst is over."

He still felt exhausted and weak, but he studied her, unsure if he was hallucinating how friendly she was being. "You stayed," he said, having wondered during his semiconsciousness if she would stay with him.

"Of course I stayed," she frowned.

"I knew you wouldn't leave, but I wasn't sure if you'd want to be in here..."

She looked away sadly and started running a rag over his upper chest and shoulders now that he was able to hold himself out of the water. "I wasn't going to leave you with someone else to take care of you. I'm sorry I've been avoiding you." Her face crumpled and her lip quivered. "And I didn't mean it that I can't stand being around you," her voice broke. "At work I can shut down and get my mind off of things. But you...it hurts to be near you because I can feel your grief too," she whimpered. "I know I haven't been there for you. I don't know how to when I can't even keep myself together," she wept. "I miss you." She buried her face in her hands that were wet and beat red from being so cold caring for him in the ice water. Her shoulders shook with her soft cries, and she started to get up to leave.

"Please," he sniffled with tears filling his eyes. The mark on his chest hurt for the first time ever. It burned and his heart began to throb painfully with every beat. It was her pain that he realized he was feeling. She had opened up and now it came with a crushing force. It was painful to breathe. The grief and devastation were so strong that he felt the blackness in his heart spring to live, thriving on the anguish. He touched the mark, but her love was buried so deep in the grief that he couldn't reach it. So he had to pull his heart away from her so the blackness didn't spread in his heart and kill him. A moment later, he felt her heart shut him away. And he suddenly knew she was staying away to protect him from her causing the blackness to spread. He tried to lean forward to catch her hand, but he was too weak. "Don't go."

She stilled but didn't turn. "I should have listened to you and gone to Spruce that morning," she wept.

Tears fell down his face. "No, that wouldn't have changed anything," he sniffled, knowing she thought Spruce might have been able to save the baby. She was so lost in darkness and had no idea how to get out. Tears escaped him because he didn't know how to reach her and show her that he was right here for her.

Turning around, she held a shaking hand to her lips. Her eyes searched Milori's as her face crumpled and she sank to her knees. "I shouldn't have gone to work. She was too delicate. I should have stayed home and rested." Her head bowed and gut-wrenching sobs cut through the silence. "I'm sorry I killed the baby," she whispered.

A stunned tear fell from his lashes into the water as he stared at her. Everything made sense. She blamed herself, and he realized she was staying away from him not only because of his heart but because she couldn't handle the guilt. She felt even more guilt every time she felt his pain. This beautiful creature, who could lead her people through any war or disaster and be strong enough for a nation, had been broken. He knew this moment would haunt him forever, witnessing the fall of a great leader, who had once believed so vehemently that love had the power to save anything that her entire kingdom believed it too. Except it couldn't save her baby. This was the beginning of the end of the most wonderful creature he had ever known. And he would be damned if he wouldn't fight like hell to save her.

It took every ounce of his strength to curl his fingers around the lips of the tub and pull himself forward to a sit. The room swam terribly and his stomach threatened him, but he slowly pulled himself, a millimeter at a time along the tub until he was close enough for his fingers to reach out and barely brush over her arm.

She startled and looked up, not having expected him to be able to reach her. Her face was wet with tears.

He looked beyond pale and panted, "It's not...your fault." He reached out a hand that shook with illness. "I love you," he breathed, on the verge of fainting.

The incredible struggle she realized he went through to reach her shook her soul. If he had blamed her, he forgave her. It didn't ease the grief or pain, but she saw a glimpse of light. Slowly reaching up, she took his hand.

He enclosed his fingers, and she felt his love swelling in her heart, shoving and beating back the depression that consumed her.

"I love you too," she sniffled and got up on her knees to wrap her arms around him.

He held her tight and pulled back her neck collar to bare her mark. Pressing his to hers, he closed his eyes and let his love flow.

She gasped and her hands curled into fists as his love flowed directly into her, skin to skin, in a pure form that was almost painful. At the same time, it was heaven.

He slept most of the day but was up for trips to the washroom with her help to keep him steady. He felt horrible and was so embarrassed having her rinsing out his basins or helping keep him on his feet in the washroom, but he wouldn't have traded his illness for the world. Because Clarion came back to him.

The next day, he shuffled out to the kitchen in his robe because he kept chilling. He held the walls and furniture to keep steady. He eased himself into an island counter chair in the kitchen as she made him some toast for lunch.

"I feel ancient," he sighed.

"For some species, you are ancient," she teased over her shoulder and put the slightest bit of peanut butter on the toast to give him some protein.

"I'd laugh if I didn't think my innards would end up on the counter," he said weakly.

She set the piece of toast and glass of water before him. "See if this stays down."

He stared at it for a moment before she replaced it with two plain wheat crackers. "It's a sad day when this looks better than fried mushrooms," he said weakly and started breathing deeply and swallowing hard.

She grabbed the basin that she had brought down just in case.

"You were incredibly sick. It's just going to take time," Spruce said that night. "You might not have made it if Sleet hadn't dunked you in Frost Lake." He had an intravenous line in Milori for the dehydration again. "It's every four hours now you're getting sick?"

"Aye," he sighed in bed and closed his eyes. "I hate you. You got this after I did and are better."

"I've built up some immunity. You've kept yourself locked in your North Woods house for three hundred years, so you're paying for it."

"But he's improving, right?" Clarion cut in from her perch on her mattress with a hand protectively on Milori's broad shoulder. "Is it alright how much weight he's lost?" she fretted.

"The vomiting is slowing down, and the fever is gone. He's not in danger from the weight loss—his body will break down fat for energy until food gets back in his system. Being just a few days, he'll be fine. He'll put it back on in a couple weeks. He shouldn't be contagious anymore if you don't touch any of his bodily fluids."

It took another day for Milori to be able to get out of bed, but he was in fairly good spirits while he was laid up. She read to him and they played cards once the motion didn't bother him. But they mostly curled up together in bed and talked. She was pleasantly surprised to learn that he knew how to play the Scottish flute that he had hidden in their closet, could speak Gaelic and carved furniture.

"How did I not know all of this?" she gasped in surprise.

He shrugged. "Ah never 'ad reason ta mention it. What about ye? Yer a lass w' a dozen talents, but what do ye like ta do fer fun?"

She noticed his accent had been gradually slipping out more and more the longer they were home alone. It was so thick now that every once in awhile she had to pretend she hadn't heard him when she actually needed it repeated for comprehension.

"Nothing too exciting. I tried learning the harp once, but that was a disaster," she laughed. "Silvermist was trying to teach me. I think it's the only time I've ever seen her turn red with frustration," she said thoughtfully.

He laughed.

Then he eyes suddenly lit up. "Next week when we go dancing, you should play."

"Play?"

"Yes," she grinned. He said something. "Hm?" she asked.

"Ah dinnae ken whit ye mean," he repeated. She still looked blank. "Oh," he blushed. "Sorry, I didn't realize," he said, diluting his accent.

"No, I love it," she pleaded and gave him big sad eyes.

He smiled and half laughed. "Alright. 'Ah dinnae ken whit ye mean,'" he said in a heavy accent. "Means 'I don't know what you mean,'" he translated in his lighter accent. "Let's see...'gonnae no' dae that' means 'don't do that.' 'Bonnie' is 'pretty.' 'Oot' is 'out,' and 'noo' is 'now.' 'Nicht' is 'night.' 'Ben' is 'through.' Tha' should get ye ben," he smiled.

A brilliant smile lit up her face. "And what's 'sweetheart'?"

He gave a soft shake of his head. "Me bonnie lass sounds better."

"What does that mean?"

"My pretty girl."

She blushed. "You're not fully using your accent, are you?"

"Aye, jist no' t' slang always. Tis a bit rough on t' ears otherwise."

"Oh. I wish you weren't sick." She kissed his chest.

He chuckled. "Ah ken. Ye git hot an' bothered w' me looks an' sexy voice," he said haughtily with a glint in his eye.

She laughed, having so much fun with this playful side of him, like she hadn't laughed in weeks.

A few days later, they were getting ready to go dancing again for the first time in a month, and he had done surprisingly well with his PTSD.

"Milori? Would you zip me?" She stepped into the washroom in a short skirted dress and presented her back to him after he finished tying back his hair.

He turned to her and his hand slipped inside her dress.

She giggled and pulled away. "Behave. You had your fun last night."

"And ye were t' most enthusiastic Ah 'ave ever seen ye," he grinned.

"Hush and zip me," she said with red cheeks.

She walked into the dance club on Milori's arm. The place was crowded and loud tonight.

They found Mary and Gary on the dance floor going wild to some crazy music.

"Do you want to sit? You look a little pale," he leaned in and said in her ear so she could hear him under the music.

"Would you get a water? I'm kind of dizzy."

He quickly found a table and helped her sit before he hurried off to the bar.

She was nauseous by the time he returned.

He gave her the glass and scooted his chair close to wrap his arm around her. Then he felt her brow. "I hope you didn't catch the flu. Maybe we should go home, sweetheart. You don't look so good."

She took a sip of water, and someone walked past with a plate of salsa and chips. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she ran for the washroom.

"Clarion?" Mary called. She stepped into the washroom and saw Clarion rinsing her mouth. "Oh no. Did you get sick?"

She nodded.

Mary wet a paper towel and set it on the back of Clarion's neck. "Do you think it's the flu? Practically everyone had it the past two weeks, and you were visiting the sick and taking care of Milori," she said in concern.

"I think so," she said weakly.

Mary had an arm wrapped around her as they walked out, Milori hovering anxiously near the washroom. "I think she has the flu. Do you need help getting her home?"

He scooped Clarion up. "No, I have Blizzard. Thanks for checking on her."

"I'll come by tomorrow," Mary said. "Take care of her."

She slept soundly but had random bouts of getting sick on and off the next morning. She felt fairly fine otherwise. Milori feared she would go downhill as fast as he had, so he sent for Spruce.

"I was wondering if you'd get it," Spruce commented as he examined her in the bedroom.

"It's not as bad as what Milori had. I feel almost normal in between bouts. But I can't keep much down besides water."

"Lie down. He'll have a heart attack if I don't do a full exam," he commented dryly, nodding to Milori, who was pacing on the other side of the room. He was suddenly serious when he palpated her abdomen. "Have you had any stomach pain?"

"No."

Milori shot over. "What's wrong? You look worried," he demanded of Spruce.

"I'm just asking," he lied. He palpated a bit more. "Is that uncomfortable?"

"Kind of," she said while biting her lip.

"What is it?" Milori repeated.

"I'm sure it's nothing. Let's do an ultrasound just to make sure."

Milori helped her slip under the sheet and was palpating her bare belly a minute later. He suddenly snatched his hand away, feeling a small mass. "No," he panicked, terrified eyes flying to Spruce. It couldn't be cancer. He didn't think fairies could get cancer.

Spruce caught his hand. "Trust me. I think it's alright."

"What?" she asked, not sure why Milori looked so afraid.

Spruce guided Milori's hands, and an image began to take shape from the dust. "Everyone, relax."

She and Milori looked at each other in concern when they recognized the womb shape. Then there was dust in the middle that wasn't glowing, and her hands flew over her mouth. "No, it's another dead baby?" she gasped, starting to cry.

Spruce set a hand on her arm, his eyes focused on the image. "No, that's too big to be another pregnancy."

"Too big?" Milori frowned, completely confused. "What is it? Does she have an infection?" he asked urgently.

The dark dust started to glitter and then faded.

"Clarion's set your hands on your belly to warm it up." Spruce pulled Milori's hands away when he was too worried to comprehend directions.

She did and then Milori and Spruce did an ultrasound again.

A small spot no larger than the first index of Milori's finger glittered pink.

Spruce's mouth fell open and he smiled. "Congratulations, Mama and Papa. Your baby is four weeks old."

"What?" she gasped in shock.

Milori stared at the image, his face paler than usual.

"Apparently winter fairies show up as dark dust on ultrasound from being cold. She's already switching between winter and warm fairy temperatures." Spruce turned to them. "I'm so sorry I inaccurately diagnosed last time. I had no idea. Winter fairies don't look like that on ultrasound normally."

Clarion was crying tears of joy but Milori croaked, "Is something wrong with her?" He was trying to wrap his head around this.

Spruce moved Milori's hands to get a different angle. The small spot started sparkling blue and then pink.

"Is that a boy and a girl?" Milori paled.

"I don't know, but you need to sit." Shoved a chair under Milori.

Clarion smiled and took Milori's free hand. "It's alright," she laughed softly, her eyes shining bright.

Spruce held Milori's hand on her belly, squinting at the image. "No, I think her winter dust is turning blue as she gets older."

"Winter fairies don't have blue dust," Milori frowned and looked at Spruce.

"Milori, hop on the bed. We'll use you to experiment."

He helped Clarion up and then laid down, catching her in his arms for a moment to brush a kiss over her lips. "I love you. It'll be alright."

She was scared now that something was wrong with the baby and wrapped her arms around Milori while Spruce got out more dust.

"I'm sure it's normal. We just don't really know what normal is," Spruce reassured them.

They were looking at Milori's organs on ultrasound a minute later. Spruce moved her hand around. "See how some spots are dark? I think it's probably just the angles." He moved her hand to Milori's side. "Yes, it's blue when the angle is different. Lilly needed an ultrasound on her neck after the stabbing, and she was blue too. The color doesn't indicate gender. Back to you, Clarion."

She sighed with relief and Milori hopped up, being very careful with her as she laid down again.

"Unfortunately, some of the pregnancy is going to be learn as we go," Spruce said and glanced up to see them not paying attention but gazing at each other with smiles as Milori stroked her belly. He smiled and worked around Milori for the time being.

They saw the baby again, and Spruce pointed out the tiny arms and legs.

"She's perfect," Milori beamed and looked down at Clarion. "Can you see her?"

She nodded with a smile.

Milori gazed down at her, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye. Then he leaned down and kissed Clarion.

She wrapped her arms around him, silently weeping with joy.

When she let go, he bent down and kissed her belly.

She stood out on the porch with a cup of tea to ease the morning sickness a bit later, watching the butterflies that were flapping about happily, the birds singing sweeter, the bees buzzing faster and the animals chattering with news. She took another sip, both of her hands wrapped around her warm cup as she leaned a shoulder against the wooden post. The joyous news of the princess was spreading among the animals like wildfire, but they promised to keep it a secret from the fairies so Clarion and Milori could make the announcement. She laughed in her cup when she saw a chipmunk get the news across the field, he was so excited that he raced over and started chatting a hundred miles a minute.

"Thank you," Clarion smiled. "Yes, we're very excited."

Milori came down the ladder from putting in the washroom window that she had smashed out when he had been ill.

Clarion didn't mind that it was a warm day because it had made Milori shed his shirt while working on the window.

"Alright, it's set. Ah can't believe it was on backorder that long." He pulled off his tool belt and set it on the porch before he went to put away the ladder.

She couldn't hide her smile when his muscles flexed as he carried it on his shoulder around to the side of the cabin to the shed.

"Ah see ye watchin'," he smiled as he passed.

She laughed heartily, her heart so light that the animals chattered faster. "You were flexing and taking longer than necessary! You knew I was watching."

He looked over his shoulder and winked, with a smile on his face.

She watched him return, his perfect muscles and all.

"Yer hopeless," he laughed, noticing her noticing him, and climbed up the steps.

"I'm hormonal, and you shouldn't walk around without clothes with a body like that if you don't want me to notice," she replied as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and cradled her flat belly.

"Ah like ye noticin'. Perhaps we can watch t' meteor shower comin' this evenin' an' curl up on t' couch," he said huskily and kissed just under her ear.

It was warm outside that night, so he took her out in the field behind the cabin, keeping near the house just in case. He stood behind her with his hands cupping her belly, and they waited for the stars to fly.

"Look," she gasped moments later when the stars began shooting across the velvety black sky like diamonds. Dozens and dozens danced across the sky until it multiplied into hundreds soaring overhead. "Oh, Milori," she whispered in wonder. "Dewey says this won't happen again for a thousand years." Her eyes shined brightly as she watched the gorgeous painting Nature was creating before them. She rested her hand over his on her belly. "It's so beautiful," she breathed.

"Incredibly beautiful," he said huskily.

His voice right against her ear. Turning her head toward him, she looked up to see him gazing down at her in wonder and profound love. She turned in his arms and tenderly stroked his jaw, realizing he hadn't been watching the stars.

He held her right hand in his on his chest and set her other on his chest while his arm wrapped around her. And he started them in a slow, swaying dance, the music playing in their hearts.

"You remembered," she whispered. "I told you when we met that I wanted to dance under the stars one day."

"O' course Ah remember," he said huskily and brushed a tender kiss over her lips. "Whit better night than t' one we find out we're goin' ta be a family," he whispered.

Tears danced in her eyes when her heart melted. "I love you."

He kissed away a tear. "Ah love ye. Ah love ye w' me whole heart," he whispered and rested his cheek against hers, his heart swelling with love. "Ah could dance w' ye forever, love," he sighed in wonder.

"That sounds perfect," she whispered and rested her head on his chest, her soul never more at peace.

Their hearts waltzed through the fields as the heavens danced above them.


	52. Chapter 52

Clarion couldn't stop smiling.

Tinkerbell and Periwinkle had overheard her telling Mary about the baby, and the two of them had decided to throw a winter/warm fairy party so Clarion and Milori could announce the baby with a grand celebration.

The warm fairies were getting their wings frosted by Gliss and Spike on the log border so they could cross into winter safely.

Over in Clarion's and Milori's yard in spring, Milori anxiously kept a protective arm around her. "Sweetheart, I don't know if this is a good idea."

"Lord Milori, we've tested it on dozens and dozens of fairies. She'll be fine," Periwinkle promised from where they all stood in a circle on the border.

"I truly think it won't harm her or the baby," Spruce added. He stood in winter beside Periwinkle while Milori and Clarion stood on the spring side.

"Do you want to frost my wings instead?" Clarion asked Milori because he looked so nervous.

He shook his head. "No. My talents are stronger than Peri's. If I accidentally do it too strong, your wing will snap instantly." He pulled off his feather cape that he only wore outside of the house and presented his back to Periwinkle. "Do mine first."

Clarion bit her lip to keep from smiling at Milori's endearing protectiveness that also drove her mad sometimes.

Spruce caught her eye and smiled. "You're a nervous wreck, Milori."

"She's the first pregnant female in our history. Shut up," he retorted, not even bothering to turn his head to look at Spruce.

"Milori," Clarion cut in when he started letting his stress creep up on his patience.

Peri frosted his wing and stepped back.

Milori stood in winter and started bending his wing around.

"What are you doing?!" Clarion cried and started to rush forward.

"Checking if it's cold enough to make your wings snap," he answered distractedly.

"It's only enough to blanket the warmth into her wings, not enough to penetrate all the way through," Periwinkle explained.

Spruce examined it with Milori. "This won't hurt her."

Once Milori was satisfied, he stepped back into spring and helped her put on her coat and carefully guided her wings through the slits that Tinkerbell had made in the back. Then he led her just inches into winter, turning her so one wing was in spring while she waited for the frosting of the other to be completed.

She startled when Peri started frosting.

"What's wrong?" Milori demanded and stopped Peri's hand.

"It tingles," Clarion laughed. "Sorry."

Milori released a huge breath of relief and resumed supervising Peri. He felt her wing once it was done and glanced at Clarion. "Alright?" he asked her.

Clarion blushed and whispered in his ear. "It almost feels like when you rub white dust on my wings." His eyebrows rose, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. "Stop thinking about the bedroom," she scolded in a whisper.

He chuckled and then surveyed Peri's handwork when she was finished. "Your skills have come a long way," he told Periwinkle in approval.

"Thank you," Peri blushed, beaming that her lord had praised her work. "I have to go meet Tink." She curtseyed to them and then flew away.

"I'll head over too. The peppermint is helping with morning sickness?" Spruce asked Clarion.

She nodded. "Yes, thank you. Now go and make merry. No more duties tonight," she smiled, excited for the first party ever between warm and winter fairies.

Clarion had her arms wrapped around Milori as they flew in on Blizzard, circling above the festivities.

It was a beautiful party, with periwinkle flowers and snowflakes dropped down from baskets overhead that the snow owls carried. There was ice skating, food, winter games, snowman making contest and everyone making merry. But her favorite part was Milori holding her in his arms for the events in which she was nervous to do and preferred to watch, such as ice skating. He was laughing and chatting with everyone more than she had ever seen, all the while keeping a protective arm around her whenever she wasn't gone talking with fairies. She loved that he let her have space to roam and converse, yet whenever everyone paired off to start another event, he was always right there when she turned around.

When she was talking to Mary and giggling secretly about the baby, Tinkerbell announced they were going to have sled races. Everyone paired up, and Clarion wasn't surprised when she turned around and saw Milori striding across the way toward her with a smile.

Once he reached her, she set her hands on his chest, and his arms went around her waist. "I never worry about being without a partner," she smiled up at him tenderly, touched that she never had to go in search of or wait for him.

"Of course not," he smiled with a furrowed brow, confused why she even thought he might not be there. "Do you prefer to go with one of your friends?"

"No," she beamed, her heart melting even further when she saw he was baffled by her appreciation of him. "Show me how to sled, husband," she grinned, her eyes radiant.

He led her on his arm over to where the winter fairies were crafting sleds on the edge of the hill. "Who says I'm good at sledding?" he chuckled.

"Something tells me crafting is where your heart lies," she smiled, anxious to see him use his talents that she rarely had the opportunity to witness.

"The other fairies practice much more than I," he warned and then dropped to his knees.

"Ah, but the Lord of Winter doesn't need to practice," she replied proudly.

With a shake of his head and a smile, he scooped up a handful of snow that grew under his command, taking shape in the form of what resembled a beautiful canoe so thin she could look through it. He froze the snow into ice, and made it strong but as light as air.

She cocked her head, curious as to his logic as she watched him freeze it with a thin layer of ice. The other fairies were crafting sleds and sleighs, much larger and made out of snow/frost, and he was crafting the boat with runners.

Kneeling beside him, she watched the ice creeping across the boat in breathtaking swirls and patterns. It was the most intricate design she had ever seen, putting her intricate frosts on windowpanes to shame. Glancing at him, she saw the deep concentration in his eyes as he worked.

"Milori, it's beautiful," she said in awe when they climbed in, all of the fairies almost ready to begin the race.

He settled her in front of him and then climbed in behind her, tucking them in together tight.

"Why a canoe?" she asked over her shoulder and leaned her back against his chest to look up at him.

He pecked a kiss on her lips and smiled. "Watch."

"Ready. Set. Go!" Gliss called.

The two dozen teams took off, dropping down the long hill in what Clarion thought would be a short race.

The fairies on the sidelines were cheering like wild, but it was the winter fairies who were screaming with excitement.

Milori's arm wrapped around her tight, and her wings were tucked down inside her coat to stay protected. She squeaked in surprise when they hit a slight bump half way down the hill, sending them airborne just a bit. But they never touched the ground again.

She looked over the edge, scared why they were getting farther from the ground, and worried they would drop and crash at any minute. And then she looked down over the edge to see Milori's hand out and ice forming under them as they rode the air, a bridge being created behind them. Looking over at the other participants, she saw those winter fairies doing the same thing.

The boat was as light and thin as air it felt like they were flying. He took her up as high as he dared without risking her getting hurt if they fell. If they did, he could create a fluffy snow pile to catch them. The brisk wind licked over his face and tugged at his hair. When Clarion laughed with joy, he smiled and let his heart dance. For centuries he had been trapped with a bird or the ground under him, but this time there was almost nothing. He closed his eyes in exhilaration and threw his head back, welcoming the wind. Clarion's laughter filled his heart, bringing back memories of carrying her through the stars in his arms before his wing had broken. They soared through the air as he hadn't done in three hundred years, with Clarion in his arms. He was free.


	53. Chapter 53

Clarion could feel it. She didn't have to look at Milori's face to know he felt like a caged bird who had been set free after giving up hope. Looking up at him over her shoulder, she saw his eyes sparkling with excitement and a smile—that was born from the depths of his heart—lighting up his face. Her heart sang for him, but at the same time it wept knowing that in only moments, he would be chained to the ground again.

"Soar," she said softly and held the edge of the canoe tighter, wanting him to savor every minute.

He smiled and his arm held her tighter. Then he let them nosedive toward the ground.

She couldn't help but scream even though she knew he wouldn't let them crash. "Faster!" she squealed and grabbed his arm around her when they reached incredible speeds. Clarion screamed with laughter, her heart racing in her breast with excitement. When he took them up, down and around wide curves, she laughed so hard that it was difficult to breathe.

Milori laughed from his soul upon hearing her having so much fun. Adrenaline pumped through him, thriving in the moment. He kept his hand around her fisted, ready to shoot out piles of snow to catch them if he faltered.

Neither one of them paid attention if the race was still going or who was winning—they were too busy laughing and screaming on their wild ride together.

Milori finally slowed them down and climbed out before helping her out.

"You're crazy," she laughed, stumbling into his arms because she was a bit dizzy.

He was still laughing. "You're wild. Faster?! How fast did you want me to go?" he grinned and held her steady until her sea legs faded.

"You won!" Sled called, cupping his hands around his mouth, from a bit away back near the party.

"Ah!" Clarion screamed in excitement and jumped into Milori's arms.

He stumbled back a step, not prepared for her weight. But his wing made him lose his balance, and they tumbled into the snow, sliding down a tiny hill. He feared she was hurt when they rolled apart, but he heard her laughing as he pushed himself up from landing on his face in the snow. And then he got a snowball in the face.

Clarion scrambled up and ran a bit away, scooping up snow with her mittens to make a snowball and saw Milori face down and laughed—only because her mark was still connected to his from their emotional sled ride and she knew he wasn't hurt. She let her snowball fly. "Oh!" she squeaked and threw her hand over her mouth when he suddenly raised himself up on his hands and knees, causing the snowball to hit him square in his face. "Sorry! I didn't know you were going to get up that fast! I meant to hit your shoulder-!" A snowball hit her leg. Her mouth fell open. "You hit me!"

He stood with a grin, brushing himself off without taking his eyes from her. "You can't throw a snowball at a winter fairy and expect no retaliation," he laughed.

She bent down, keeping an eye on him as she scooped up a large one.

He twirled a finger and a giant snowball formed at his feet.

"No! You're cheating!" she cried with a laugh and started running away.

"You wanted a snowball fight," he laughed and started chasing her.

The ground trembled and a wall of snow suddenly blocked her. She veered right but another wall formed and another until she was in a three-sided box. Spinning around, she saw him running toward her. "Cheater! You can't trap me!" She threw a snowball at him that he turned into a bunch of harmless snowflakes. "Noooo!" she screamed and laughed, frantically throwing snowballs to stop his approach.

He laughed and slowed to a walk, turning the balls into snow powder as fast as she could throw them. "You can't win this one, sweetheart," he grinned, her laughter music to his heart.

She suddenly pulled off her glove and held out her hand, dust shimmering like she was ready to shoot it at him. She grinned proudly.

"Oh ho ho," he laughed. "Touché," he grinned and stopped in his tracks. "It seems we have a war." He crossed his arms over his chest, highly curious as to how she would outwit him, which he didn't doubt she would.

"It seems so," she smiled. "Surrender, Lord of Winter," she commanded.

"Or what?" he grinned, enjoying this game.

"Or I'm forced into taking drastic measures," she replied haughtily.

He looked up at the sky, pretending to contemplate.

She suddenly pulled off her cape, freeing her wings, and shot at him.

He was on his back with Clarion on top of him in a heartbeat.

He looked a bit startled, but she smiled down at him.

"Cheater! I can't fly!" he protested half-heartedly.

"And I can't build snow walls," she countered. Then her voice lowered. "I said surrender," she whispered and leaned down to brush her lips over his.

He kissed her hungrily but managed to pull her cape around her so she wouldn't get cold. "I think I'll always defy you if this is my punishment," he whispered between kisses.

She giggled against his lips.

Rosetta tore over to Tink and the rest of her friends. "I found him!" she practically screamed.

"Who?" Tink frowned.

"The winter fairy!" she screamed and covered her mouth with her hands. Then she started fluttering her muff in her face to fan her rosy cheeks. "Oh, he's positively gorgeous," she sighed dreamily.

"What's his name?" Fawn asked.

Rosetta blinked. "Oh. Oh, I don't remember," she frowned. "He walked up to me when I was fixing my hair." She clasped her hands together under her chin. "His voice is so deep and perfect. Oh, I wish I could have babies! I'd have a hundred of his babies!"

Fawn, Vidia, Tink and Iridessa looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Laugh now, but you'll wish he was yours when y'all see him," Rosetta replied with her nose in the air.

"What does he do?" Tink asked, her laughter fading.

"Does it matter what he does?" Rosetta replied, completely not caring.

"You don't know, do you?" Vidia asked with a hand on her hip. "You fall in love with a winter fairy, whom you just met and don't know his name or talent? Yeah, this is a real love story," she snorted.

"Bust my bonnet, you're jealous," Rosetta gasped in shock.

"What?" Vidia replied dryly.

"Hey, where's Silvermist?" Fawn asked.

"I think she's with Sleet. He scares me," Iridessa answered with a shudder.

Silvermist flexed her hand as she walked on Sleet's arm through the Snowflake Forest a little ways from the party.

"Does it hurt, dewdrop?" he asked in concern, using his pet name for her because he admired her beautiful dewdrops that could create rainbows in the sunlight, and stopped to take her dainty hand in his, softly stroking up to her elbow. His eye searched hers.

Her eyes remained on their hands. "A bit."

"I think it was too soon for the cast to come off," he growled.

"The healer said it's fine, the muscles are just weak from disuse." She slowly pulled her hand away.

He stared at her for a moment. "Are you nervous of me?" he questioned with a furrowed brow.

"No..." she sighed and looked up into his eyes. "The Queen voiced concerns to me about you this morning, Sleet, and I don't know what to think."

His face became impassive. "The Queen and Lord must give their blessing before warm and winter fairies can be mates, mustn't they?" he demanded, eerily calm.

"No, but the Queen must for races to mix," she answered and looked up at him with big eyes.

He turned away with a huge sigh. "She does not favor me, or I her," he warned.

"Why? She is good and fair, Sleet. I don't understand. What has she ever done to you?"

Turning to meet her eyes, his hands fisted at his sides. "She damned me below all of you the moment she realized I'm an Alamur," he snarled.

Cocking her head, she walked up to him. "Then perhaps you should teach us about you."

 

"There is nothing romantic about being an Alamur," he growled.

She set a hand on his arm. "Stop. I'm not your enemy, I just want to understand. If you won't discuss yourself with her, then do it with me. Just for me to know."

He didn't move, his cold eye hard and unyielding.

"You don't want me to fear you, yet you keep yourself a mystery. I know nothing about your past. Sleet, I know you were born in the Alamur world and were raised by their ways. I know there is darkness in your past, but you are not like that now. Is it impossible that you changed? How were you born? Where are you from? What made you want to change?" He didn't move, and she tilted her head to study him. "I was born from a baby in Asia. No one knows that I speak Korean," she smiled to herself when she saw the surprise in his eyes. "I sometimes have trouble with our language and take things literally, so fairies write me off as a bit of a fluff head," she shrugged.

His brow furrowed. "You're not a fluff head! You are intelligent and a genius with water. You're the best water talent fairy," he scowled.

She giggled and reached up to touch his scruffy cheek. "You look so fierce, no wonder why everyone is afraid of you. Even your winter spies fear you."

"A dark reputation serves me well in my line of work," he replied tightly.

"It's a good thing it doesn't deter me," she smiled and wrapped her arms around him.

He sighed and his face softened as he wrapped his arms around her. "Don't hug me in front of the soldiers or they'll never take me seriously again."

She rested her cheek on his chest. "Tell me where you're from," she asked softly.

A sigh of anxiety escaped him. "Alamur are born from screams," he began quietly. "The more violent the scream from a human, the more violent the Alamur. I was fortunate because I wasn't born from a murder but a riot in the Middle East. I lived the Alamur way of life for thirty years, Silvermist. My hands did enough sugar shedding to shoot me up to the rank of Colonel in the Alamur army." He was silent for a moment, waiting for her horror. "I helped murder a queen so I could gain rank of General."

She didn't react but held him tighter. "What happened to her fairies?" she whispered, silent tears falling down her cheeks.

"They fade as soon as an Alamur takes the throne," he whispered and swallowed hard. "Bright Fairies cannot survive being ruled by such evil."

She took a shaky breath. "What made you want to change?"

He took her hand and led her to a boulder where she could sit. Then he knelt in the snow and held her eyes. "Years ago, I met a warm fairy. We fell in love. I didn't realize that my sugar would kill her, and she died the most horrible death," he explained sadly, grief still evident in his heart.

She stared at him in shock.

"Just a year later, I was part of the army that tried to attack the North Woods and Neverland. We captured Lord Milori when he traded himself for his men. I had never seen sacrifice like that, or soldiers who were willing to give their lives not for power but for their queen. I wanted a life like that. I wanted to experience selflessness and joy and friendship. I had a glimpse of those when I was in love, but I didn't fully understand them at the time."

She brushed at the tears on her face. "But why didn't the other Alamur want to change?"

"I think evil was so embedded in them that they couldn't. Many, many Alamur are born from laughs of murderers during murdering."

"So, there are more evil Alamur being born?" she sniffled in fear.

He looked down at their hands. "Yes," he answered softly. "But I'm in Lord Milori's spy army to protect the lands from more Alamur."

"But won't they find us again, right?"

He met her eyes. "They found us the first time because I led them to us," he answered in shame. "Alamurs can smell each other's sugar. I was a coward and tried to run from them. I felt a glimmer of hope in my heart and found the lands here. No Alamur can find it otherwise. I led Lord Milori to believe that I had been born in the North Woods, so he took me in as one of his winter fairies. I have not betrayed him since that war hundreds of years ago," he said softly, desperate for her to believe.

"The Queen said you betrayed him," she replied in confusion.

"And do you think they'd let me stay if they knew I was a coward and let the Alamur come?"

"Isn't it better than being a traitor? They believe you to be far worse than you are! If they have not exiled you for being a traitor, they will not for being scared!" she cried.

"Wouldn't they fear me getting scared again?"

She didn't have an answer for that. "How did you not smell Bernard here then?"

Holding her hands tight he answered, "Lord Milori knew that Alamur sugar was deadly, so I was transfused with Bright Fairy sugar after the war. Because of it, I can no longer smell Alamur sugar but can tolerate touching it. And Bernard probably had no idea I was an Alamur, there were so many of us. He probably came during the war and snuck in to be the queen's guard. He led the Alamur back here for the recent war."

She cupped his jaw and searched his eyes. "Are you hurt from having Bright Fairy sugar?" A tear ran down her cheek.

He caught it on her finger, wiping away her sorrow. "I adjusted long ago and am fine now. Don't cry. Are you afraid of me now?"

She shook her head. "I don't care what the Queen says. You have changed. And I love you," she whispered.

He pulled back slightly in surprise. And then tears gathered in his eyes. "Darling, I love you too," he whispered and then kissed her.

She was blushing when he broke the kiss.

"I know you deserve so much better than I, but I would do anything to protect you and see you happy. I loved you the first time we spoke, but I was afraid to love again and wanted to push you away. Sometimes I'm rough and unpleasant, but I love you. May I ask the Queen tomorrow for your hand?" he asked, his eye sparkling with happiness.

"That is the worst proposal," she said softly.

His face fell.

She slowly lifted his eye patch and looked into his eyes. "You must not hide when it's just us. I want you to ask me, not the Lord's Captain."

He swallowed hard with tears of happiness shimmering in his eyes. "Silvermist, may I ask the Queen to take you as my mate?" he asked in Korean.

Her face lit up as bright as the sun upon realizing he spoke her language and threw herself in his arm, crying tears of joy. "Yes!"

"We might be misfits, but we are not misfits together," he promised and held her in his arms. "I love you, my dewdrop."


	54. Chapter 54

The fairies of every season and screamed with joy as Milori made the announcement that a princess would soon be born. The roar had been deafening, but she hadn't been able to stop the grin on her face as she watched Milori, who was so incredibly proud of a daughter that he had not yet met. When he had turned to her, his smile as big as her own, his heart had been bursting with love. They had stood in each other's arms and had looked out over the fairies. The celebration was still continuing, well past midnight, but Milori insisted they get home so she would get enough rest.

She laid in bed on her back with Milori draped beside her on her mattress with his head on her chest. His hand stroked over her bare belly as they talked, and her fingers ran through his hair. The moonlight gave a soft glow through the window.

"You play the flute well," she smiled. "I've never heard that kind of music before. It was fun," she laughed.

"Ah almost had ta stop. Ah thought Gary was goin' ta spin ye inta the trees!" he chuckled. "Ye looked so happy, sweetheart."

"I loved dancing with you more," she said shyly.

He lifted his head and scooted up to kiss her. "Ah always love dancin' w' ye," he said huskily and then kissed her deeply.

She broke the kiss with a gasp and grabbed her belly, wide eyes looking at him.

"What? What's wrong?" he panicked and felt her belly.

She gasped again and a smile of awe spread over her lips. "I think the baby moved," she whispered.

His eyebrows shot up. "Ye can't feel 'er yet. Yer only a few weeks."

"No, right here," she said and pressed his hand low on her belly. Tears gathered in her eyes. "Do you feel her?"

He shook his head. "Clarion, Ah don't ken if yer actually feelin' t' bairn," he said in concern.

She bit her lip and smiled. "You worry too much. Do an ultrasound if you don't believe me."

He sat up and rubbed her belly to make her dust surface. Then he set his hand on her. "Ye can't be feelin' 'er. She's smaller than me finger," he said in confusion and studied the grainy ultrasound image forming. "Ugh, we need fresh dust ta get a clear shot," he grumbled and squinted at the image.

She squeaked. "Right now. She just moved."

He stared at the picture. "It can't be," he whispered. "She has 'er wings."

"She does?" Clarion beamed and propped up on her elbows to try to see. "Do they look alright?"

"Ah think they're wings. Two o' 'em," he grinned. "She's liftin' 'em again."

"It tickles again. Is she fluttering?" she asked with eyes shining.

He laughed. "She is. They're gorgeous an' big, just like yers," he said proudly. "Ye 'ave ta see 'em when Spruce does t' ultrasound-ye'll have a clearer picture. She must o' had 'em down when Spruce did t' ultrasound." He withdrew his hand. "Ah don't want ta hurt 'er w' too much dust exposure," he said and beamed down at Clarion. "Oh, she's bonnie, just like 'er ma," he whispered in awe and leaned down to kiss Clarion.

"I have a right to know why!" Sleet demanded at the castle the next day. "You have no right to do this!"

Clarion stood as impenetrable as stone, her eyes hard. "I gave my answer, Captain," she ground out.

Sleet pointed a finger to the ground angrily and marched forward, his eyes burning through her. "She is meant to be my mate! You have no right! I have not harmed a Bright Fairy in centuries and have been loyal to this kingdom!"

Milori stepped forward from beside Clarion to block Sleet. "Go into the hall a moment and cool down," Milori ordered.

Sleet didn't move, his eyes furious.

"Now, Captain," Milori commanded, his voice forbidding disobedience.

His eyes flicked to Milori's, and for a moment, Milori thought Sleet would defy both of them. But he spun on his heel and stormed out with the slam of a door.

Milori turned. "Clarion, you're being unreasonable," he said calmly.

"You want Alamurs to begin mixing with us?!" she shouted, still enraged at Sleet's audacity, and pointed to the door. "We have no idea if he will turn back into an Alamur or if he truly is loyal now!" She stormed to the window to cool down and stared out.

"He has maintained our sugar for nearly four hundred years; he won't revert. And I believe that he is loyal or I wouldn't have kept him in my army all these years," he calmly interjected.

She spun around and touched her flat belly. "You would gamble the baby's safety on it? The entire kingdom's that another war won't come about?" she demanded.

Walking over to set a hand on her belly, he looked into her eyes. "I wouldn't risk anyone, especially you and the baby. Fairies can change, Clarion," he answered softly.

"Alamur are fertile. What if he gets her pregnant? Would an Alamur baby even be compatible with her?"

He sighed. "Sweetheart, Bright Fairy males are fertile too to be able to mate with the queen, if he is her match. Females are sterile, so she won't get pregnant."

"You don't know that she won't change like I did," she countered.

Running a hand through his hair, he heaved a sigh. "Clarion, only a queen becomes fertile. You're being impossible. There is no harm in them mating."

She turned away in disgust.

"What are you worried about?" he demanded. "I don't understand your rationale."

"Have you heard how the Alamur mate?" she murmured to the window, staring into summer.

"No. Frankly, I didn't know that Alamur mated."

"They don't. They take a female when and how they want," she answered in a hard voice. "I will not subject one of my fairies to a temper such as his, especially when they will be home alone where he can hurt her however he wants for hours before anyone finds out."

"Clarion, he won't hurt her. You're basing it off of his pedigree, not fact since he has changed. You're being prejudiced."

She whirled around, her eyes flashing. "And you're being ignorant! Do not challenge me, Milori! I will not sacrifice one of my fairies as an experiment!" she nearly shouted, the veins in her neck visibly pulsing.

"I will challenge you when you're letting fear rule you!" he shouted, his patience gone. "You aren't protecting a fairy, Clarion, you're creating two enemies! You have no legitimate rationale to back up you denying them! You are better than this!"

"You are sticking your head in the sand! I don't care if they hate me for it, I won't see her hurt!"

He stepped closer, their faces inches apart, the tension so high the air was vibrating. "You are not this ruler," he ground out between clenched teeth. "You give fairies second chances. You have every fairy in this kingdom willing to die for you because you are fair and strong. He has proven himself to us time and time again over the years. He nearly died trying to save me in two wars," he hissed. "He deserves to be accepted as one of us. He has fought harder than anyone for centuries to fit in, and he will never be good enough in your eyes. To you, the only good Alamur is a dead one," he spat.

"Don't you dare," she hissed. "I am responsible for hundreds of fairies. I watched them be cut down by Alamur weeks ago. There is no guarantee that he won't turn."

"There is no guarantee that any of us won't turn on you!" he cried. "You don't have to agree or disagree to a mating right now. Just give him a chance," he said, tired of arguing and going nowhere.

She flung her hand and the doors flew open.

Sleet turned in surprise and walked in.

Clarion stormed up to him, snatching his knife from his belt and slitting it over his forearm.

Milori was too shocked to react. Sleet blinked in astonishment.

She held up his arm to see gold sugar begin to surface. Then she dropped his arm and glared up at him. "If you harm a hair on her, exile will be far from the worst thing that will happen to you," she hissed. "Get out."

Sleet stared wide-eyed before silently leaving.

"What the hell was that?!" Milori barked at her, throwing his arm toward the door.

She was enraged. "You are such an advocate for him, he's your responsibility to keep under control," she hissed. And then she stormed out.

Milori stared after her, completely lost as to what was going on.

Silvermist ran up to Sleet when he exited the castle. And stopped short when she saw him holding his forearm. "What happened?" she gasped and pulled his hand away to see a slice. "Sleet, you might need stitches!"

"It's not that bad," he said quietly as she summoned water drops from the clouds and cleaned the wound.

"What happened?" she asked in concern and glanced up at him as she plucked a blade of tall grass and washed it to use as a leaf bandage.

"The Queen refused us to mate," he answered quietly.

"So she cut you?!"

"I think she wanted to be assured there wasn't Alamur sugar," he replied.

"I don't care! She doesn't cut you for it!" she cried and darted into the castle.

"Silvermist!"

Clarion was pacing in the throne room when Thomas stepped in. She expected him to announce Milori, but Silvermist flew in without waiting for an introduction.

 

"Why did you hurt him?!" she cried, flying over.

Clarion held up a hand. "Silvermist, he's a danger to you..."

"No! You're a danger to him! You see him for what he is, not who he is!" she wept angry tears, clutching her hands over her heart.

Milori ran in upon hearing the shouting. "Stop, everyone," he ordered and stepped between the females. "Let's discuss this, not attack each other," he said calmly. Then he turned to Clarion. "May I have a word with you?"

Silvermist reluctantly went to wait outside the doors.

"What is going on?" he demanded. "This is not like you at all. You cannot be worked up like this for this long while you're pregnant. And since when do you go slicing fairies?!"

Her eyes narrowed. "He should have bled heavily from a cut like that. It is but a scratch to him."

"Clarion, I know that Alamur have tougher skin, but what does this have to do with-"

"His reaction," she cut in. "It has to do with his reaction, Milori."


	55. Chapter 55

Clarion was beyond furious. Pacing in the long castle hall did nothing to calm her temper, it only drove it higher. If Silvermist thought Clarion overreacting, she might do something drastic and mate with Sleet. Clarion would never forgive herself. Her eyes snapped to Thomas, who was standing guard against the wall, knowing her well enough to not question her when she was this angry. Because whenever Clarion was ready to battle, it was not without reason.

"We leave. Now."

"Yes, my queen," he answered and waved for the guards to follow. Four guards flanked the queen, who shot out of the castle and through the sky.

Silvermist was sitting in a meadow in spring with Sleet, heartbroken that the Queen had refused their union.

He had his arm around her. "Dewdrop, please don't cry. We can still be together every day," he pleaded and wiped at her tears.

She looked up at him with big eyes and tears shimmering. "But you were born hundreds of years before me. I'm only a hundred and fifty, and you're nearly four hundred," she whimpered, her chin quivering. "You only have a few hundred more years."

Catching her chin with his forefinger, he gazed into her eyes. "And I will love you enough for a thousand years in the time we do have," he promised, his voice low and soft. Then his lips brushed over hers, as soft as the kiss of a butterfly.

He was suddenly ripped away and slammed against a nearby tree.

"Sleet!" Silvermist screamed, afraid of what was happening when she didn't see any fairies.

Clarion flew down, holding out her hand to keep him in place as she landed with her guards.

"What are you doing?!" Silvermist cried and ran over to him.

Clarion flung out her other hand, using dust to keep Silvermist away. "Do not touch him," she ordered and marched over to Sleet, her guards ready to assist.

Silvermist wept in fear and confusion as the guards held her back.

Sleet held Clarion's eyes, the look of defeat apparent in his face.

Clarion stormed up to him, her face inches from his. "You lied," she hissed.

"Please," he begged. "Let me be the one to tell her."

Clarion studied his face, her eyes narrow and unyielding as her chest heaved with rage. "You were going to mate with my fairy and kill her in doing so!" she roared.

Silvermist paled. "Sleet what is she talking about? He wouldn't hurt me," she wept, her heart clearly breaking.

"What?" Sleet gasped. "No, I wouldn't do anything to harm her!"

Clarion grabbed his arm, releasing it from the immobilization of the dust, and tore off the bandage to his cut. It was nearly healed.

Sleet went sheet white and he shook with fear, but it wasn't fear for himself. "Take her to Spruce," he croaked to the guards holding Silvermist. "Now!"

Looking over her shoulder at the guards, Clarion nodded for one of them to take Silvermist. "Tell Spruce she was exposed to Alamur sugar."

"What? I don't understand! He hasn't had Alamur sugar since-" Silvermist protested.

"Since the war a few months ago," Sleet finished with a heavy heart.

Silvermist stared at him, a single tear dropping from her lashes. "You told me it had been centuries," she whispered, too shocked to comprehend.

He swallowed hard and met her eyes. "It was for a day to try to find the Lost Nine. It was only so I could smell where they were."

"You lied," she wept, her eyes searching his, pleading for him to tell her this wasn't real. "You promised you were different, that you'd never be one of them again."

"Get her to Spruce," Clarion ordered the guards. Then she turned her attention to Sleet. "None of us can touch you. Will you go to the dungeon? I will take you by force," she snarled.

His shoulders slumped as his eyes followed Silvermist leaving in tears. "I'll go," he answered quietly.

Milori arrived at the dungeon a bit later, taking in seeing Sleet in shackles in a cell and Clarion talking with Thomas and Spruce quietly.

Clarion spotted him and walked with him down the hall for privacy.

"What is going on?" he demanded. "Sled told me that my captain was arrested over an hour ago, and I had no knowledge of this," he accused, leaning a hand against the stone wall behind her. "You have no right to not inform me when one of my fairies is arrested."

"Your captain has signs of recent Alamur transfusions," she replied, her voice just as tight.

"Dammit, Clarion, you can't go accusing him-"

"That he admitted to doing during the war."

Milori froze. "What? That's not possible. He was losing gold sugar from his chest on the field," Milori argued.

"He left when you all were captured, transfusing himself with dead Alamurs' sugar from the field to go find you. He claims Alamurs can smell each other for miles. Everyone was so distressed that no one noticed him missing. He's unaccounted for during a two-day time frame so far. His body can still heal rapidly, so there is Alamur sugar in his system. Spruce examined Silvermist and found her organ function is slightly off. He thinks she was exposed to mutated gold dust from Sleet this morning. It's not pure Alamur sugar and it's recent exposure, so she won't die. She's in the hospital getting a raw dust drip and is improving."

He ran his hand over his face. "What about Sleet? If he's already been transfused and is still not taking on Bright Fairy function, what does Spruce want to do?"

She held Milori's eyes. "Spruce said that last time a full transfusion was done and was successful. Sleet was only able to transfuse Bright Fairy sugar slowly doing it himself. Spruce thinks that once Alamur sugar touches ours, it mutates it."

He lowered his voice. "Sleet nearly died when we did it last time. He's centuries older, and it might have been luck that kept him alive before," he said seriously.

She held his eyes. "He said he wants to do it because of Silvermist," she said quietly. "Spruce said it's best to do in winter to drop Sleet's body temp."

He slowly nodded. And then slammed his fist against the wall.

Clarion set a hand on his shoulder. "You weren't even here to know he did it," she said quietly.

"I should have seen changes. He should have told me! He could have killed so many of our fairies!"

"We will deal with it after he's transfused."

He took a huge breath to calm himself and then pushed away from the wall. "I don't want you touching him. I'll go with Spruce and Sled to help. Give us some of your dust."

She set his hand over her heart and let him draw out a small amount.

"You're feeling alright?"

She nodded.

He started to walk away, but she caught his arm. He looked back at her. "Be careful, Milori."

Clarion went to check on Silvermist, who was nearly hysterical with fear when she realized Sleet was being transfused.

"Stop!" Clarion ordered and held Silvermist by the shoulders when she tried to get out of the hospital bed. "He's near the North Woods where we can't even go. He's done this before. He'll be alright. You must stay here and finish your drip so you're strong enough to go to him when he's finished."

"Please, let me go now," she begged, tears streaming down her face. "He shouldn't be alone. He shouldn't be afraid that I hate him."

Clarion gathered Silvermist in her arms. "He knows you love him. Shhhh, it's alright," she promised.

"You can save him if something happens, right? You'll save him?" she sobbed.

Clarion tucked Silvermist's head under her chin. And when she hesitated in answering, she realized that Milori was right that she was prejudiced. "I'll do my best, dear," she whispered and closed her eyes as Silvermist wept out her terror and pain.

Milori returned hours later. Silvermist had cried herself to sleep earlier and was now laying in the bed hopeless, waiting for news of Sleet's death.

Clarion was sitting on the end of the bed and looked up when Milori crossed over to Silvermist. "It's done, but he's weak and in pain. He needs you."

Silvermist had already pushed back the covers, and Milori scooped her up upon seeing she was weak herself. He turned to Clarion, nodding for her to grab the intravenous bag.

Clarion followed without a word.

Sleet was in a room down the hall, to Clarion's surprise. And he looked awful.

Sleet's black stubble beard was a stark contrast to his skin that was gray, with a sheen of sweat covered him. His eye patch was gone, but it only managed to make his eyes seem dull as he laid in the bed. Clarion glanced at the monitors and saw his body was struggling to stay alive.

Milori set Silvermist down beside Sleet carefully and stepped back, taking Clarion's hand.

Clarion realized by Milori's gesture that Spruce had told him Sleet wasn't going to make it.

"I'm so sorry," Sleet rasped and held Silvermist's hand tight.

"Shhh, there's nothing to be sorry for," she sniffled and ran her hands through his hair. "I love you. You didn't know you still had their sugar."

He kissed her hand. "I want you to promise me something."

"Anything."

"Promise me that you will fall in love, dewdrop," he said gently and swallowed hard.

Silvermist must have realized what was happening because she threw herself down on his chest and sobbed.

Clarion heard Milori sniffle as he walked away to the window.

"I don't know if this will work," Clarion said quietly.

Everyone looked at her.

She walked around the bed to Sleet and looked down at him. "You and I don't see eye to eye on much. The fact that you're an Alamur will always make me harder on you than my other fairies."

His eyes fell in shame, not for the first time about his heritage.

"But it does not mean that I won't protect you," she finished quietly and then leaned down.

Her lips touched his and she breathed out dust.

Sleet's chest heaved, but he wasn't able to draw in any air. His heart rate fell on the monitor.

"Clarion, he has Alamur dust in his lungs!" Milori cried, realizing why Sleet couldn't breathe, and lunged for Clarion.

Clarion's knees buckled the second she felt an Alamur particle of dust pass through her lips.

"Nooo!" Milori screamed and caught her.

Sleet caught her hand, his breathing still labored. "Finish and I can save you. I promise."

"No!" Milori cried and tried to shove Sleet's hand away.

"Save the baby," she whispered and set her lips to his before anyone could react. She blew a burst of dust into him and started to collapse.

Sleet gained strength, suddenly grabbed Clarion and shot through the window with her.

Glass rained down, and Milori ran to the window in terror as Sleet disappeared faster than Blizzard would ever be able to catch up. "Clarion!" he screamed.

She clung to Sleet, only knowing it was harder and harder to breathe.

"Hold your breath!" he ordered over the roaring of the wind, struggling to carry her with his smaller wings.

They plunged into a lake, and he took them all the way to the bottom.

She clawed and tried to swim up, but he held her down and set his mouth to hers.

He blew in air and then swam away to the surface above.

Clarion was terrified, trying hard to swim up to the sunlight, but her dress was anchored down by large rocks on top of the hem. Milori had to come find her. He would get here before she and the baby drowned. She fought, but the stones were too heavy and she couldn't reach her zipper to remove her dress. Milori would come soon, she told herself, her heart racing wildly to pump oxygen that wasn't there.

Sleet swam down again and blew more air into her.

When he started to surface again, she caught his leg to go up with him. He looked down and shook his head, pointing for her to stay. He pried her hands away and looked into her eyes. He was calm. He pointed that he was going for more air, and she slowly let him go, her hands shaking.

He returned with more air a moment later.

Milori circled on Blizzard, following the direction he felt his heart pulling to Clarion. There was a lake. Why was he led to a lake where they clearly weren't? Then he saw Sleet surface.

"She needs to stay under for ten minutes! It will kill the Alamur dust! It can't survive the pressure of water!" he shouted up to Milori.

Milori dove off Blizzard into the water. "She needs more air because of the baby!" He cut straight through to the bottom and saw that Sleet must have set the rocks on her dress to keep her anchored down. She looked terrified as he cupped her face and blew air into her mouth.

He and Sleet spaced themselves so she was getting a steady flow of air every few seconds from them.

Then he surfaced quickly with Sleet. "She's getting our carbon dioxide. She can't do this for ten minutes!"

"She has to!" He dove back under.

Milori saw Spruce and Silvermist arrive. "Silvermist! I hope you're as damn good as they say!"

Clarion saw Milori and Sleet swimming down with an air bubble the size of her head.

Milori touched her lips and then the bubble.

She set her lips to it and breathed in fresh air.

Minutes later, Sleet pushed the rocks off her dress, and he and Milori grabbed her arms to pull her to the surface.

She gasped in air and started coughing hard as they swam her to the shore where the guards and Silvermist were waiting anxiously with Spruce.

"Keep coughing. It's the dead Alamur dust trying to get out," Sleet explained.

Spruce dropped down beside her as she coughed on her hands and knees, struggling to breathe. He listened with his stethoscope. "Good. It's moving up." He raised his hand and listened intently. Then he slammed his palm down on Clarion's back just when she coughed.

A tiny spec of black dust fell out of her mouth, and she gulped in air.

"That's a girl," Spruce smiled as he continued to listen to her chest.

Milori kissed her head, both of them still dripping wet. "Is she alright? Is the baby alright?"

"She's fine." He moved his stethoscope under to listen to her belly. "The baby is alright too."

Milori shot up and punched Sleet, sending him sprawling on his back. "You could have killed them!" Milori started to climb on Sleet when Clarion waived to Thomas to stop them.

It took three guards to pull Milori off, his chest heaving and eyes flashing. Clarion curiously noticed that Sleet didn't fight back.

Silvermist stood back, afraid and uncertain what to do.

"Enough," she coughed when her breathing slowed down.

Milori stilled, although he looked ready to mercilessly beat Sleet, who got up with the help of Silvermist.

"Captain," Clarion said firmly after Thomas helped her stand. She signaled for the guards to release Milori.

He let go of Silvermist's hand and met Clarion's eyes, waiting for his punishment.

"You will report to Healer Spruce daily for tests to confirm all Alamur dust and sugar are gone from your body. Because of your neglect in informing your lord of your interaction with Alamur sugar, you will undergo weekly sugar tests to ensure you have not had Alamur transfusions. Do you understand that such irresponsibility could have killed Silvermist months ago?" she said tightly.

He looked at Silvermist sadly. "I realize that now," he answered quietly and forced himself to look at Clarion again.

"If you ever even touch Alamur sugar or dust without first informing Lord Milori or myself, you will be exiled from Pixie Hollow. Do you understand, Captain?"

"Yes, Your Highness," he replied quietly.

She looked at Milori, indicating she was done.

Milori clenched his jaw, not trusting himself to move without lunging at Sleet's throat. "I was clear before the war that you report to the Queen in my absence. You defied not only the laws of our kingdom but those of our army. You put everyone in danger by keeping your stunt a secret. I thank the stars that you are a recluse and only exposed Silvermist and Her Majesty, not killing the entire kingdom. You are stripped of your rank, Lieutenant."

Clarion's eyes flew to Sleet and saw the humiliation in his face from his dishonorable discharge.

Silvermist's eyes welled with tears, but she kept quiet.

"Yes, General," he replied in a thick voice, clearly fighting to keep from hanging his head in shame while his general addressed him.

"I would like a moment with the Lieutenant," she told everyone, her eyes not leaving Sleet.

"No. He has broken my trust, and I do not want you alone with him," Milori cut in and didn't move.

"Very well," she agreed.

Once everyone left them, she asked Sleet, "If you had left me to die, you would have become ruler of the entire kingdom within minutes, yes?"

"I have no interest in taking your kingdom," he answered calmly.

"That's not my question."

He slowly nodded.

"So if I wouldn't have saved you first, you would have let me die," she stated.

He held her eyes. "If you hadn't healed me from the mutated Bright Fairy sugar, tiny traces of Alamur sugar would have remained in my body. I would have died from the water not long after getting you in the water. We would have both drowned. Alamurs fly faster than your fast flying fairies, and it would have been too late by the time Lord Milori would have found you. I could not save you until you saved me."

She nodded slowly, taking in what he said. Milori clearly looked surprised.

"You're not my favorite fairy, but I have misjudged you, Sleet," she said softly.

"Thank you, Your Highness. I know I don't deserve another chance to earn your trust," he said quietly as if unused to thanking anyone.

She stepped up to him and set her hand on her belly. "Thank you for saving our baby," she replied softly. "And if you ever tell anyone that I said I misjudged you, I will deny it and throw you in the dungeon," she said but her eyes smiled.

"Understood, Your Highness," he answered with the closest thing she had seen to a smile on him.

Milori stepped forward. "Make an effort, and perhaps in a couple years we'll discuss a captain position."

"Yes, General. Thank you." He offered his hand.

Milori stared in shock, not remembering the last time Sleet had offered to shake hands. He took it.


	56. Chapter 56

Clarion was changing to go out to dinner weeks later.

"Ah!" Milori cried and darted over.

"What?" she asked with wide eyes, her heart racing and dress still in her hands.

"You're showing," he beamed and stroked her bare belly, his eyes transfixed.

She looked down and frowned. "I gained water weight weeks ago."

"No, you're round," he said in awe and knelt to kiss the baby. "She's getting so big."

"Milori," she laughed. "Can I put clothes on?"

"No," he replied, only half paying attention. "Oh look," he cooed and got up to step behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, able to cup her belly easily in his hands.

"Oh," she said in surprise and felt her belly. "I guess she did grow."

"Do you feel different?" he asked and kissed her neck.

"Other than going to the washroom ten times a day?" she giggled. Then she sighed when he gently massaged her sore breasts. "And those aching? And throwing up?"

"Ah, you love being pregnant, and you know it," he smiled as he nibbled her skin. "Spruce says you'll start feeling better soon. You're almost in the second trimester. The morning sickness seems to be getting better?"

She pulled her head away and gave him a look.

"Alright, during the night it's getting better," he smiled. "You have my utmost empathy, sweetheart. I'd bear it for you if I could."

"Actually, Spruce says you can take the labor pain through your dust," she said and turned in his arms to face him.

He paled and stared at her with huge eyes. "Alright," he squeaked and swallowed hard.

A smile broke free. "I'm teasing."

He took deep, rapid breaths. "Oh. I would do it," he croaked, wiping his suddenly damp brow.

"I know." She pecked a kiss on his lips.

"I'd probably cry like a baby. You have my utmost support, sweetheart. I can't imagine having to go through it."

Her smile died and she wrapped her arms around him to touch the scars on his back while looking into his eyes. "I imagine this was worse than childbirth," she said sadly.

He gave a forced smile and shrug and then pulled out of her arms, not liking to discuss it.

"Honey, you've been trying to push it away since the baby. I know you're having trouble sleeping the past few nights. We'll go dancing tonight."

"No, you're just getting past those belly pains. You shouldn't go jostling around dancing," he protested and went into the washroom to shave.

She pulled on her dress and followed, leaning a shoulder against the door frame while he lathered his face. "Spruce said it was growing pains. Now that she's starting to move out and I've started yoga, I rarely hurt. And it's just for a second. He said it's safe to go dancing. I think you're avoiding dancing. You haven't even written in your journal for over a month."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye as he ran the blade over his throat. "I see you've been snooping."

"Because I'm concerned," she replied calmly. "I know you're seeing Juniper monthly, but even he said you can't just drop all forms of release."

"Since when did you become the therapist?" he snapped and rinsed his blade to do the other side of his face.

Her eyebrows rose. "You have mood swings, just like this. I try to get close to you, and you push me away," she said quietly.

He lowered his razor and gave her a look.

She heaved a sigh and finished getting ready to go to dinner with Gary and Mary.

Clarion noticed that Milori was a bit agitated within a few minutes of arriving at their table. "Honey, are you alright?" she whispered while Gary and Mary argued over what food Gary could order and still try to lose weight with his unsuccessful diet.

He nodded, but his eyes were darting around to the clanking of silverware on plates at the tables around them.

Then it dawned on her that it sounded like swords clanging. "Excuse us, I need some air," Clarion told Mary and Gary, grabbing Milori's hand to drag him outside.

"Everything alright?" Mary asked.

"Yes. We'll be back in a minute. Too hot in here being pregnant and all," she lied.

They were half way through the restaurant when a waitor dropped a tray of dishes, shattering them all over the hard floor.

Milori startled and stopped so fast that she was jerked backwards.

He spun in a circle. The Alamur were everywhere. He needed a sword and reached for his hip only to find one wasn't there. Where was his sword?!

She saw the panic in his eyes and knew he was having a flashback. His hands started shaking and sweat sprung on his brow. His breathing picked up in a split second. "Milori, it's me. We're at the restaurant," she said calmly and slowly took his hand.

He startled, his eyes whipping to her but unfocused, and he tripped backwards into a table, nearly upsetting it.

Fairies were looking and beginning to whisper, but she tuned them out and started humming their song. He started to calm down seconds after they started dancing.

She held him close, fiercely protective of him while some fairies stared and others laughed at them dancing in the middle of a fancy restaurant. But she didn't care. He needed her, and she wasn't going to stop until he told her to.

He tensed when he started coming back to reality and realized what was happening.

"Shhh, it doesn't matter," she whispered and rested her head on his shoulder.

His feet stopped. "Clarion, I'm so sorry," he apologized, ashamed he had made them a spectacle. He started to pull away.

"I'm not," she sighed, content in his arms. "Be romantic and whisk me away outside," she smiled, her head still resting on him.

He smiled and danced her out through the doors.

She was laughing by the time they got outside when he swept her up into his arms.

"I'd spin you, but I'm not sure how strong your stomach is yet," he smiled.

"No," she laughed. "The baby might throw up."

His brow furrowed as he laughed. "I think it's more like you might throw up."

"It sounds cuter to say it's the baby," she giggled.

"Ah," he chuckled and set her to her feet. "Thank you," he said seriously.

Stroking his cheek, she met his eyes. "I think we should at least dance at home at night. You haven't had an episode like this in a long time. And I know you're having trouble sleeping because you look so tired the last few days," she said softly and ran her finger over the shadows under his eyes. "Why have you stopped writing in the journal too?"

She looked at him with concern, and he was humiliated. "We're going to have our hands full soon with a baby and no time for dancing and writing. You don't need to be caring for her and me. I thought if I start now, I'll be able to do without them by the time she's born," he explained quietly.

"Milori, dancing doesn't have to be therapy. It can be time for just us. I miss our date nights."

"You do?" he asked in surprise.

She nodded. "Let's go dancing tonight. Just for fun," she said with excitement and grabbed his hand in both of hers.

He smiled. "Alright."

Mary and Gary didn't need convincing to skip the fancy dinner and go to the dance club instead.

The place was packed, but someone had made a cold wind machine, so the place was cool enough for winter fairies to not get overheated too fast.

"Tink's invention!" Mary called to Milori over the music.

Clarion elbowed him gently in the ribs and winked.

"Yes, yes, she does have good inventions sometimes," he admitted.

To Clarion's delight, Tink and Terence were there dancing with Sled and Rosetta. When Mary convinced her and Milori to try salsa dancing, Clarion bumped someone on the packed floor. Turning to apologize, she and Spruce looked at each other.

"Hey! I didn't know you come here!" Clarion laughed over the music.

He smiled and pointed to his girlfriend. "What can I say, she's a dancer!"

Clarion spotted Sleet and Silvermist walk through the door. She pulled Milori's arm until he leaned down so he could hear what she wanted to say privately.

"I've been thinking that maybe Sleet and Silvermist should be mates."

He straightened in surprise and stopped dancing. "Really?"

She nodded and stopped dancing too.

Scooting them off the floor so they weren't jostled, he looked at her again. "Seriously? What changed your mind?"

"He's been making a genuine effort to change and compliant with his weekly medical tests. I've been watching them together for a few weeks. Watch." She pointed to the couple.

Sleet drew the attention of the females who liked bad and dangerous, but his attention was solely on helping his dainty little Silvermist through the crowd. When Silvermist pointed to the floor to go dance and looked up at Sleet, he nodded with a smile and followed her, a hand protectively on the small of her back.

Milori's mouth fell open. "No," he gasped.

When Sleet, the most horrible dancer who hated dancing, started dancing with Silvermist, a graceful little dancer, Milori's eyes bugged.

"He loves her," Clarion smiled up at him and pushed Milori's chin to shut his mouth. She laughed and pulled Milori along behind her. He was still gaping when they reached the couple.

Sleet was clearly smiling only because Silvermist was happy. He stilled and tensed when he saw Clarion.

She pulled him down to say something in his ear.

"Seriously?" he asked in shock and looked at Clarion.

She smiled and nodded.

"Dewdrop, I have to ask you something!" he cried and scooped Silvermist up suddenly and ran out the door with her.

Clarion started laughing. "I guess they're mating tonight."

"Dewdrop?" Milori gaped after them. "Dewdrop? I didn't know he could say anything but cuss words."

Clarion grinned and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck to turn his attention on her. "You've been neglecting me for a month. What are you going to call me in bed tonight?" she purred.

That got his attention fast. "You've had morning sickness at night for a month. And during the morning. And afternoon," he laughed. "I don't think you would've enjoyed me climbing on you."

She pulled him down and whispered in his ear.

"Oh, I like the sound of that," he grinned. "What else?"

"And Lord Milori will help me!" Gary called through the mic.

She and Milori spun around, afraid that somehow everyone had heard their conversation when a spotlight shined on them.

Milori looked blankly at Gary on the disc jockey stage.

"We're going to teach these greenhorns a proper Scottish jig!" Gary cheered.

The room was filled with stomping minutes later as the fairies learned Scottish dances. Clarion wasn't the only one who couldn't stop laughing as her mate swung her around. They danced well into the night.

Clarion was giddy and giggly all the way home and through their shower to wash off from dancing so much. She started a water fight that Milori won with a heated kiss.

Milori hung back in the washroom, brushing his teeth and anxiously awaiting for Clarion to put on her little nightie that he loved taking off of her. "Ready, sweetheart?" There was no response. She had him going the past few hours ever since she had whispered her plans in his ear at the dance club. He felt like a little child waiting to unwrap his Christmas present. "Love?"

He stepped out and saw her asleep in her nightie on top of the covers, with her towel still in one hand. Her hair was still damp with snarls spread over the pillow. She still had his socks on that came half way up her calves. She must've had to run down to the laundry room for her nightie-she only wore socks when she had to go in the damp basement.

With a tender smile, he crossed the room, gently extracted the wet towel and carefully pulled out the covers from under her. Her belly caught his eye.

"Ohh," he whispered, his heart melting. Her nightie was too small to fit over the baby anymore, so it bunched up just above her hips.

He gazed at her with her tangled hair, overly large sock and too small nightie. She had never looked more beautiful.

He tucked her in and then climbed in on his side of her mattress. He was welcomed with an arm flung over his chest, knocking out his air. Gently moving her arm back down, he turned onto his side and slowly rolled her so he could spoon her and cradle the baby in his hand. His body was still thinking about her naughty promises, but he closed his eyes, his heart never more content. "I love you, my angel," he whispered and fell into a peaceful sleep.


	57. Chapter 57

"I'm as big as a squirrel," Clarion wept in the bedroom months later.

"No, sweetheart, you're beautiful. It means the baby is growing good," he promised. He had no idea what to do and it was too late to fetch female help, not that other females could sympathize with her.

"You can't even hug me anymore, and there's still four months to go," she sobbed and leaned her hand back to awkwardly lower down her bulk on the bed. "I can't even sit." she wailed.

He took a deep breath. Males weren't meant to handle female meltdowns. When males got overwhelmed, they punched each other. He was far more equipped to handle a brawl than pregnancy hormones. Sitting on the bed, he wrapped his arm around her and set a hand on her swollen belly. "Sweetheart, take a breath. I know you're overwhelmed and feel like you're in this alone, but I'm right here to support you. The baby is growing at exactly the right rate, which is good, right?" He brushed at her tears.

She sniffled and looked at him through tearstained lashes. Then she nodded.

"I know it must be hard having your body change and things getting hard to do, but remember it means the baby is healthy." He took her hands in his and looked into her eyes. "Spruce said the baby is going to slow down growing, so you'll only get a little bit bigger. I think you're beautiful, and the bigger you grow, the more I want to protect you. Tell me what you're feeling, sweetheart," he asked gently.

She sniffled, calming down a little. "It's just so hard. It's hard to move and I get so tired by the end of the day. My back always hurts but even moreso if I fly because the extra weight is hard on my wings."

"The back massages at night don't help?"

"Not very much."

He frowned. "Does Spruce know?"

"He has a brace made of sapling bark, but it traps my body heat so much that it makes me feel sick," she sniffled.

"What if I try to come at lunch to rub your back?" He stroked a lock of hair from her brow. Her eyes were distracted. "Sweetheart, what's really going on?" he coaxed.

She swallowed hard and looked at him. Silent tears fell from her lashes. "Everyone stares and whispers about me," she said in a small voice, her eyes humiliated.

"Oh, sweetheart." He wrapped his arms around her and held her close protectively. "No, they're simply curious and are anxious to meet the baby."

Rubbing her belly, she looked at him with big eyes. "You think so?"

"I know so, love." He tucked her into bed for the night and held her close.

Clarion felt a gentle shaking of her shoulder.

"Sweetheart, wake up. Clarion," Milori coaxed softly.

She blinked and looked up at him sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. "Milori? What's wrong? What time is it?" She rubbed her eyes.

"A bit after midnight. I'm sorry, love. I need you to come with me," he said seriously and stood, offering his hands.

Sitting up with his help, she studied his face as they stood. He retrieved her winter clothes. "Milori, what's wrong?"

He returned to her and helped her dress, his mood solemn. "A winter fairy was born and...I just need you to come."

She touched his arm, and he met her eyes. "Milori."

"There's something wrong with her face," he said quietly. "Spruce is on his way to examine her, but I thought you should come. I've never seen anything like it. Her speech is completely garbled. I...I'm not sure if she's fading already. Her light is dim," he explained, sorrow in his eyes.

She quickly followed him out to Blizzard, and he held onto her tight as they took off. His fear was palpable, and she prepared herself for anything.

They landed in the snow covered woods, just to the right of an ice circle that was as clear as crystal. A willow tree bowed over the ice like a chandelier, catching the magnificent rainbows of the Northern Lights.

Clarion stared in wonder as Milori lifted her down. "This is where winter fairies are born?" she asked in amazement.

"Yes." He held out his hand before them, and the icy ground frosted instantly so she wouldn't slip.

In the middle of the circle was a female fairy, on her knees with her head bowed as if in despair. She was quite beautiful, with long flowing black hair in a luscious braid cascading down her elegant back. The creature's figure was willowy like the tree under which she she was born.

Spruce was kneeling beside the fairy with his bag. When he looked up as they approached, his eyes were sad and he shook his head to Milori.

Clarion stepped around the fairy and saw she had large blue eyes fringed with thick black lashes. But instead of the fairy standing and bowing, she ducked her head down farther.

Milori knelt before the fairy and held out his hand to her. "I've brought the Queen. She might be able to help," he said gently. "Come, she won't harm you." He helped the fairy to her feet.

Clarion concealed her shock when the pretty fairy lifted her face.

Her top lip was slit in two, blending into her nostrils and massive parts of her top lip missing. Her teeth hung out from under her nose.

Spruce pulled Clarion aside. "She has a severe cleft palate," he said sadly. "We don't have the capability to fix this with surgery. She's unable to eat or talk. I don't know if you can do anything."

Milori came over and searched her eyes. "I'm hoping you can heal her."

"I've never seen anything like this," she said quietly.

"I think she was born from a child who has a cleft palate," Spruce answered.

"But other fairies are born from children with illness or deformities and are fine," she said in confusion.

"My guess is she's from a child whose entire face is deformed. I think this child was unable to laugh because of the cleft palate, thus creating a deformed fairy."

Clarion's eyes narrowed on him. "The laughs come from children's souls. A baby's soul isn't anything less than pure," she snapped angrily. Then she walked over to the fairy and looked over her shoulder at Milori. "What's her name?" she asked, keeping her temper in check so as not to frighten the new fairy.

"Crystal," he answered softly.

Clarion turned her attention back to the frightened girl. "I don't know if I can do anything, but I'm going to try," she explained gently.

Crystal nodded slowly.

Then Clarion stepped back, her eyes still closed, and he and Spruce watched in amazement. Crystal's eyes grew wide in awe.

Clarion lifted one arm and then the other, shooting swirls of gold dust into the sky. Then she dropped her arms and turned her palms up as if lifting something heavy. A glittering cloud of gold dust gathered overhead, and Clarion raised her hands, her large majestic wings unfolding from beneath her cape and opening in all their glory. Then she shot into the sky, tearing through the cloud of dust and forcing the particles to follow her into the stars.

They stared up into the heavens.

Dust exploded everywhere in the sky, sparkling with amazing brilliance from the Northern Lights.

Milori spotted Clarion spin faster than he had ever seen a fairy move, the dust congregating behind her, unable to keep up with her speed. Then Clarion soared down toward the ground and swooped back up at the last instant, sending the dust pounding into the ground with a crack echoing through the mountains.

The ground shook, nearly making him and the other two fairies lose their balance.

The circle of ice suddenly rose into the air with Crystal on it and looking around in surprise, the ice glistening gold dust infused within it.

Milori and Spruce were left on the ground, and they gazed up, mesmerized.

Clarion circled the floating ice, running her hands around the edges to create an intricate frost.

Milori watched in confusion and then realized Clarion was forcing the dust into the center of the ice, compacting the dust with incredible power. Never had he seen Clarion strong enough to control so much dust, much less contain its energy in such a tight space. He realized just how powerful she truly was, and it stole his breath away.

Clarion landed on the sheet of ice and stomped down her foot, sending the frozen edges of the ice shattering while she and Crystal remained in the center. Then Clarion gracefully swooped her hands together as if squeezing. The dust in the ice followed her motion, forced into an inch of ice. Yet it still wasn't small enough.

Clarion took Crystal's hand and flew her down to Milori being Crystal's wings weren't straightened yet by Milori to fly on her own.

Clarion's brow was slightly damp and she was breathless when she landed beside Milori. "Break the ice around the dust," she panted.

"Are you-"

"I'm fine. I'm getting tired and need you to break it," she panted and rubbed her belly.

He flung his hand out and shattered the sheet so that tiny flakes of snow rained down on them. The one-inch piece of ice with the dust embedded still floated in the sky just above their heads.

Tearing back into the sky, Clarion snatched up the piece and soared into the heavens.

There was a blinding gold flash and and a crack of thunder.

In the blink of an eye, Clarion landed before them, holding a tiny cube of shining gold dust. Her brow was damp. She held out the cube to Crystal. "It's the most compact I can get pure dust," she panted. "Eat it and see if it helps."

Crystal set the tiny cube in her mouth, and then her face glowed gold. A moment later, the glow faded and her face was flawless. Lifting a shaky hand to her mouth, she felt it and tears filled her eyes. "It worked," she gasped in a soft melodious voice. And her smile was breathtaking.

Spruce stared in shock and Milori's mouth fell open.

"I don't understand," Spruce gasped.

Clarion looked upon Crystal. "The laugh from which she was born may have been deformed but not the soul. The baby's laugh simply needed a little help in forming her fairy," Clarion answered with a gentle, motherly smile to Crystal.

Crystal couldn't stop glowing with happiness.

Clarion was suddenly grabbed by Milori, and he kissed her deeply. She pushed on his chest enough to pull away and whisper, "Milori, they're watching."

"I don't care," he said huskily. "You are amazing." Then he kissed her passionately.

"That's our Queen," Spruce told Crystal proudly.


	58. Chapter 58

"How d' do?" Dewy asked in his library with a grin.

Milori walked over, his shoulders slumped and eyes bleary. "Keeper, would you teach Snowflake about the autumn freeze?" he yawned.

Dewey set down his quill to give Milori his full attention. "Are you alright?"

He rubbed his eyes, half asleep on his feet. "Clarion is due any day and is having Braxton Hicks, Spruce says. Something about them being false labor to strengthen her womb for delivery. She has trouble sleeping because they give her so much discomfort. Last night they were so bad we thought she was in labor and made a trip to the hospital at two o'clock in the morning."

"Oh dear. The Queen doesn't have knowledge about childbirth?" Dewey frowned.

"None besides what Spruce has taught us from books. I take it you got the knowledge instead of her?" He yawned again and dropped into a chair.

"No. This is odd indeed. Did you check with Spruce..." His voice trailed off when he saw Milori asleep sitting up. With a quiet smile, he fetched an ice blanket and set it around Milori's shoulders. Then he started digging through his books.

"How are you feeling?" Mary asked Clarion as they counted the baskets to be delivered to winter the next day.

Clarion set a hand against the small of her back and rubbed her belly. "Aside from the false labor pains that seem to strike whenever, I'm feeling fine. I thought I'd be exhausted and sick of being as huge as a mouse, but I like being pregnant," she beamed.

"You aren't as big as a mouse. I can't tell you're pregnant when I see you from behind."

Clarion smiled. "You're trying to make me feel skinny."

"No, I think Milori's right that you look pretty with your little belly."

"I don't feel like I'm as big as I did four months ago. I don't sleep much anymore, but Spruce said that's common with pregnant humans. Something about possibly preparing the mother for being up often at night once the baby is born. I sort of wish I could be pregnant for a bit longer," she smiled, her eyes sparkling.

Mary giggled. "You certainly have a glow about you and look much better the past couple months since Milori made you share more responsibilities with the ministers. You don't need to handle everything on your own, you know."

Clarion blushed. "It has been nice having less stress. But I think Milori stresses more now than ever. He seems nervous about the birth and jumps every time I move," she added dryly.

"He's a male," Mary said with a wave of her hand. "He's supposed to worry."

Clarion's arms wrapped around her belly. "Mary."

Mary looked at Clarion and her mouth fell open in wonder. "Oh my, is that the baby?"

She set Mary's hand on her belly where a little lump poked up through her golden dress. "She likes to stretch in the afternoons."

"I've never seen her move," Mary smiled. Then her eyes glided up to Clarion's face.

Clarion was gazing down at her own belly with more love than Mary had ever seen in a living being, and cradling her belly in her arms. Her face was nothing short of brilliant radiance and abundant joy.

Mary didn't understand it, but Clarion and the unborn baby had a bond stronger than those of any fairies who had ever lived. Somehow the unborn princess owned every corner of love in her mother's vast heart without having ever been seen or held or kissed. It was a miracle in itself to behold such raw, unconditional love.

"Husband," Clarion purred in bed the next morning and ran her leg up Milori's calf.

He grunted sleepily as he woke up on Clarion's side of the bed on his back.

"You've been neglecting me for days," she whispered and nibbled under his ear.

"You're going to give birth at any minute," he groaned.

"Spruce said it's perfectly safe until my water breaks." She ran her hand over his wonderfully hard chest.

He burst out laughing even though his eyes weren't open yet. "That's not exactly an image that makes me eager to jostle you, sweetheart."

A bit later, she told him, "Such brave words," and gave a haughty look as she sashayed to the washroom. She didn't understand how, but her pregnant body could seduce her husband in ways her slim figure never had.

He was still struggling to see straight but managed to follow her with a smile of his own. "Revenge, sweetheart, is sweet."

She squealed when she saw him coming and quickly closed the door on him.

He burst through and frowned when he didn't see her anywhere in the washroom. Then he heard a giggle up above. Looking up, he saw his wife hovering up near the ceiling. "You can't escape so easily, love." He hopped up on the counter and then grabbed a wood beam to start scaling his way up through the rafters.

"Milori," she blushed with a grin, loving that he wanted her so much he was climbing as deftly as a squirrel. And it was a lovely view seeing him doing it shirtless too.

When he reached her, he stood on a beam and spread his arms to hold onto two beams beside him. He leaned out and kissed her as she hovered. Only their lips touched, but he managed to stroke the depth of her heart.

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, their faces millimeters apart. "Sometimes you make me feel like I can still fly," he whispered huskily.

His words twisted her heart sadly at first, but she looked into his eyes and saw he was content and at peace.

"And somehow you sweep me off my feet better than when you did have wings," she whispered, her eyes shining.

"Come down so I can love you, wife."

She giggled and set her hands on his shoulders. "Alright."

He pecked a kiss on her lips with a boyish grin. "Don't think I don't know you lured me up here to see my muscles flexing as I climbed."

Raising her chin like a haughty queen, she said primly. "You flatter yourself."

"Aye, and I'm as blind as a bat too," he laughed and rapidly made his descent, leaving her blushing as red as a ladybug.

Silvermist cuddled up to Sleet in the autumn leaves, nuzzling against his strong chest to hide from the morning sun.

He stretched, arching against her for a moment as he yawned and woke up. Then his arms wrapped tighter around the little fairy sleeping on his chest. "Are you cold, dewdrop?" he inquired, his voice raspier than usual with sleep still woven through it.

"A little," she answered without opening her eyes.

He pulled a leaf over them. "Do you want me to carry you to summer?"

"I don't want to get up yet," she sighed.

Rubbing her arms and back to warm her he promised, "I'll have our home rebuilt in a couple weeks."

She didn't say anything.

"Dewdrop?" He raised his head to look at her on his chest, but the downward sweep of her lashes veiled her eyes.

"The tornado destroyed other fairies' homes too, but, with the help of all the fairies, they were rebuilt in a few days. It's been two weeks," she said quietly.

He slowly shifted her off his chest and got up to wash his face with morning dew collected on leaves nearby. "You know that no one will help us rebuild because they're starting to figure out I'm an Alamur," he replied gruffly.

She sat up. "No, nobody suspects you're an Alamur. No one will help because you won't give them a chance. Terence brought over some wood with Tink and Bobble, but you practically ripped their heads off saying you didn't need their charity. They want to help."

He continued washing as if he hadn't heard her.

"I know you need to be in autumn because you can't tolerate the heat of summer. But I'm a summer fairy, and I can't take sleeping in the cold night after night. I don't know if you're stubborn, or if you have too much pride. But I'm not above asking for help. I had to go to a healer yesterday." Her voice was soft with sadness and hurt.

He spun around with wide eyes, concern wrinkling his brow.

"My wing had crystals on the tip because there was a frost the other night." Her hands clasped before her, and her eyes dropped to the ground.

He hurried over and reached out his hands as if to gather her in his arms.

"I'm going to stay with Tink."

Sleet's hands froze mid-reach and then slowly lowered to his sides. There was deafening silence.

"Staying last night was a risk, and my wings hurt already from the chill," she sniffled. "I'll come back as soon as the house is rebuilt."

"I shouldn't have asked you to stay here with me. That's not fair to you to sleep on the ground, and I can only get in a few hours of building a day after work."

She looked up at him, tears glistening on her eyes. "You didn't ask me to stay. You never would have ask, would you?" she questioned without expecting an answer.

"I'll sit outside your window for a few hours each night being we can't be separated for long without our lights dimming because we're mates."

A tear escaped down her cheek. "Sometimes I wonder if Rosetta was right. She said you're so hard you'd close up again after we were mated. You never tell me you need me, you haven't said you love me in weeks, and you are never the one to initiate physical contact. Even then it's as if you make love just to get it over with." Her eyes searched his as if seeking a rebuttal.

But he was silent and dropped his eyes from hers.

Her face crumpled and she tried to fly away, but he was so fast that he blocked her in a heartbeat.

"Silvermist," he said, his voice thick. "I...I'll build you a home in summer before I start my house here. I'll stand outside for a bit at night so you don't fade."

Her chest heaved. She stared at him.

He portrayed no emotion, almost as if she had imagined he had just suggested they separate permanently.

A sob escaped her, and she tore off along the river.

When he started to go after her again, she flung out her hand behind her to send up a splash of water. It soaked his wings just enough that he dropped to the ground, unable to fly until his wings dried out. He watched her fly away in gut-wrenching sobs as he scrambled up to his feet.

"Silvermist?" Tink asked in surprise when the water fairy plowed right into her arms when Tink was walking to work with Terence.

"He left me!" she wailed and flung her arms around Tink's neck.

"Oh dear. Should I go get Fawn and everyone?" Terence asked Tink. "I'll tell Mary you've a headache."

She nodded and patted Silvermist's back.

"I'll rake his bottom over some thistles!" Rosetta huffed once they were all gathered at Tink's house.

"I told you he was bad news," Vidia drawled.

"Vidia!" Fawn scolded. "Silvermist, don't listen to her. I'm sure it's a misunderstanding."

"That's right. I haven't seen Sleet...well, since the night he proposed...but he adores you," Iridessa promised.

Slivermist sniffled. "He's acted so different since we mated. I think he resents I'm not..."

"Not what?" Tink asked.

Silvermist wept into her hands. "He was in love with a warm fairy who died years ago."

"And you think he wishes you were her?" Iridessa frowned.

"Some fairies are only meant to fall in love once. Maybe he just got lonely and mated me. He wants to have separate homes!"

"Come." Vidia grabbed Silvermist's hand and dragged her out the door. The others followed behind.

Someone knocked on the cabin door during lunch.

Clarion glanced at Milori across the table in the kitchen, both of them puzzled who it could be. He answered and returned with a flock of warm fairies, and Silvermist crying in the middle of the group.

"My dear, I sense these are female issues, so I will head back to work." He stepped around the table and pecked a kiss on her forehead. Then he laid a hand on her belly and whispered in her ear. "Don't overwork yourself. I'll be home at dinner." Then he left with a nod to the females swarming the kitchen.

The fairies bowed and then all started talking at once.

Clarion held up her hands. "One at a time. Whomever this is about, she will speak first. Please, have a seat. My back is bothering me today, so I prefer to remain sitting."

The fairies eased Silvermist forward.

"Sleet kicked Silvermist out!" Tink declared.

Clarion blinked, her eyes snapping to Silvermist. "Dear, is this true?"

She sniffled and nodded.

"Leave us for a few minutes. You're welcome to wait in the living room." Clarion pushed her bulk up and led Silvermist to the dining hall for privacy.

Tink and the fairies fretted while they waited, not even noticing the heavy cotton that was lining the edge of the end tables or fireplace ledge, or the lamps and picture frames glued with honey to the end tables to baby-proof the house.

"Silvermist," Clarion said calmly with a hand rubbing her belly as she looked across the table at the young fairy. "Sleet is a very private and gruff fairy. It sounds to me like there is a misunderstanding. I think it's simply male pride keeping him from accepting help to build a home. The Alamur aren't domestic like us, so it's probably unnerving for him to live in a home. They don't mate in the sense that we do, and he's likely trying to figure out his footing as a provider. But that's not what this is truly about, is it?"

Silvermist dabbed at her eyes with the Queen's leafkerchief. "He's so much less affectionate since we mated. I can barely get him to talk to me. I fear that he mated me only because he was lonely. Alamur can't fall in love, can they?"

"Nothing is impossible. Why don't you think he loves you?" she asked in concern and set her hand over Silvermist's on the table.

She was silent.

"Dear, if I'm to help, you need to tell me what you're thinking," she coaxed.

Her eyes remained downcast. "If Alamur can't fall in love, but he could, perhaps it could only happen once. Just like we can typically only have one mate in a lifetime." Her lip quivered.

"You're afraid he's still in love with that fairy from years ago."

Her eyes flew to Clarion. "How did you know about her?"

"I know more than you think. And I think..." Clarion held her belly for a moment and breathed deep.

"Are you alright, my queen?"

She nodded and blew out a breath. "False labor pains." Her face relaxed a bit. "I think that if he was able to fall in love once, there's no reason why he couldn't do it again. Few fairies surprise me, Silvermist, yet Sleet does nothing but surprise me. Go talk to him. I daresay he's hurting thinking you are leaving him."

Her eyes grew wide, the thought never having occurred to her.

Clarion walked Silvermist back to the living room.

The fairies hurried over to their friend.

"Take her to..." Clarion grabbed her back with one hand and belly with the other and let out a slight whimper.

"Queen Clarion?" Tink hurried over and touched her arm.

Clarion doubled over, a cry of surprise and pain escaping her.

"She's in labor," Fawn said. "Animals have that same look of pain when about to give birth."

"What? No," Clarion panted as the pain faded and she straightened, her face flushed. "The baby isn't due until tomorrow, and Milori said he was going to the North Woods this afternoon to check on the animals from a blizzard up there."

Fawn felt Clarion's belly when she started panting again. "How long was your back hurting?"

"Since..." Clarion clenched her teeth against the pain sweeping through her back and belly before she could speak again. "...I woke up this morning."

"I think you were in labor this morning. The animals complain of back pain sometimes before signs of actual labor," Fawn answered.

All of the fairies surrounded Clarion and helped her to the bedroom.

"Vidia, you're fast. Go get Spruce. Rosetta, go tell Sled to fetch Lord Milori from the North Woods," Fawn ordered and held Clarion's hand. "Queen Clarion, I heard something about a birthing tub?"

She nodded, and the fairies put their arms around her to help her keep walking through another contraction. "Count," she gasped.

Tink and Fawn looked at each other in confusion, but Iridessa started immediately running through numbers as fast as she could.

"No," Clarion panted. "Seconds."

"Oh! I heard Spruce talking about this!" Tink said. "We figure out how long contractions are so she knows when the peak is over!" She started counting.

The contractions were just far enough apart that Clarion could change privately into a short nightdress for modesty's sake before getting into the jet tub the girls were readying in the washroom.

The pain was worse than she expected, and she was frightened, knowing it would only get worse. But she kept telling herself Milori would be here any minute. Walking to the washroom, she crossed the threshold when she doubled over and grabbed the counter, trying to remember how to breathe through the pain like Spruce had taught her. The impossibly tight cramping swept up her belly and around to her back, making her want to jerk ramrod straight and double over at the same time. Her thighs even cramped and struggled to hold her up. And then something warm trickled down her leg.

The girls swarmed around her and then they all stared at her leg.

"Um, is that normal?" Tink asked with wide eyes.

Iridessa stared.

Fawn paled. "I'm sure it's fine."

Clarion looked down and saw a trail of pink and blue dust on her leg. "I think my water broke," she said, her voice shaking. She was surrounded by fairies, but none of them knew what was happening, including herself. What if the baby was in danger? What if this wasn't normal?

"Oh, that's good then," Fawn said cheerily as they helped Clarion into the tub.

"It is?" Tink asked, puzzled.

Clarion saw Fawn shrug as if she had no idea.

Rosetta came back moments later, her face strained. "They're on their way back. Lord Milori will be here any moment," she said with a forced smile.

Fawn pulled Rosetta aside and Clarion heard Rosetta whisper, "They can't' find Lord Milori. If he's in the deep North Woods, Sled said no one will be able to go into that cold to retrieve him."

"Open the window and whistle for Blizzard. He'll bring Milori back," Clarion urged, growing panicked the longer Milori was gone. If something happened to the baby, he'd be able to help their daughter. Furthermore, Clarion was in pain that was beginning to feel like it was tearing her belly in two, and she needed Milori to keep her focused and get through this. And what if he missed the miracle they were so excited all these months for-seeing their daughter being born?

Tink ran to the window, flung it open, and gave a piercing whistle.

Blizzard flew to the window...not even two seconds later.

Clarion burst into tears.

Milori traipsed through the autumn leaves covering the ground, crunching them beneath his feet as he stormed along. If Sleet had done anything stupid to hurt Silvermist, Milori would never forgive himself for urging Clarion to let them mate. First Milori would punch Sleet, then himself, and then Sleet again before ordering Clarion to banish Sleet.

He should have brought Blizzard along instead of leaving him at home. Then he wouldn't have to trek through all of autumn without any idea where Sleet was rebuilding his house.


	59. Chapter 59

"Sleet can go in the North Woods long enough to find Lord Milori," Silvermist promised and shot out the window.

Milori spotted Sleet shirtless and pounding nails into planks as he built the walls of a new home.

"You sent word that you were ill and couldn't work today!" Milori called as he approached, the lie only adding to his temper toward Sleet.

Sleet instinctively reached for his eye patch in his pocket and looked over his shoulder. He tucked it back in and continued hammering when he saw it was someone who already knew his Alamur secret. "I don't feel well," he growled. His hammers to the nails were slightly harder than necessary, and his muscles coiled under the sheen of sweat on his back.

"Silvermist is at my home in tears," Milori glowered and crossed his arms over his chest expectantly. "If you harmed a hair on her, I'll—"

Sleet whipped around and was in Milori's face before Milori could blink. They stood face-to-face, the same height and equal strength. The air trembled with tension. Milori had to give Sleet credit for he knew Sleet's Alamur instincts were to slay when in a temper, but Sleet didn't do anything beyond breathe like an angry bull. Without an eye patch, the rage in Sleet's eyes wasn't cloaked. "I have not harmed her since that accident with her arm. Don't imply such again," he hissed. Then he flung the hammer in his hand into the woods off to his right and stalked back to the house.

In truth, a part of Milori feared Sleet when they were alone and got in arguments. Sleet had never given into his assassin instincts with Milori, but Milori knew they hovered just below the surface. The leader part of him recognized that Sleet had to always be handled with an iron glove, like a wild animal whose master could only let him wander so far on a chain. Showing fear to anyone was not an option for a ruler. It had been so long since Milori had seen Sleet so angry, and he suddenly regretted urging Clarion to let Silvermist mate with this fairy. But it was too late.

"Then tell me what happened," Milori ordered, his voice impregnated with steel.

Sleet grabbed the plank he had just nailed into the wall, his muscles bulging as he let out a roar, tore the plank right off and flung it. "You have me followed at work like I'm an animal!" He ripped another board off with a great deal of strength. "I see you fly past my home every night to check that I haven't killed my wife!" He ripped another board off, his anger feeding on itself. Then he spun on Milori, the veins in his neck bulging with ferocity. "I'm fast enough I could slaughter the entire kingdom before anyone could catch me! And yet you think having guards watching me will protect your fairies," he laughed bitterly. "I have not risen my hand or voice to my wife, and yet she wants to leave." Tears of anger and pain shimmered in his eyes. "She cannot take being mated to an Alamur. I will leave this kingdom, but I will come back thrice a week at night because I will not see her harmed by my absence."

"Or is it you who cannot stand being here where you're caged?" Milori asked quietly. "Is it you who cannot take being an Alamur?"

Sleet dropped his eyes, his temper dying and shoulders slumping. "I thought I could be gentle enough for her. She is so delicate and kind and soft. I don't know how to desire her without her being frightened that I'll rape her like Alamur do to females. I don't know how to talk to her without her finding out what kind of dark thoughts are created in my head by default—she sees an adorable rabbit, I see food if we starve; she sees cleansing rain, I see water threatening survival by not being able to fly. She wants a home, but I go mad being locked up in a box at night when I'm used to sleeping under the stars. She wants what I've found I cannot give. And she deserves to have it. I don't think I can love her like she should be loved." He sat dejectedly on the skeleton of the front porch.

"I'd say you love her more than many fairies love their mates."

Sleet's face darkened as if unsure if Milori was mocking him.

Milori sat beside Sleet, and they looked out over the woods of autumn and mountains of winter. "Walking away from the one you love because it's best for her is incredibly hard because it's the most selfless thing you'll ever do. It takes a great deal of love to have the strength to do that. Silvermist is a very calm and understanding soul. I think you'd be surprised if you only tell her what you told me. I didn't hear much of the conversation before I left the house, but she sounded heartbroken that you want to leave her."

Sleet's head snapped to look at Milori. "She said she wants to leave me."

"Did she?" Milori turned his head and studied Sleet.

"Perhaps I read into what she said," Sleet frowned.

"Sleet! Sleet! You have to find Lord Milori!"

They stood when they heard a dainty voice yelling for all she was worth before they saw Silvermist fly through the trees.

She stopped in surprise. "Lord Milori? You're not in the North Woods." Then she shook her head to focus and flew up to him. "The Queen's having the baby! Hurry!"

Milori stared at her, stunned even though he had sworn he was ready for this moment. "The baby? Is she alright?"

"I think so. Healer Spruce just got there. Go!" She grabbed his hand.

Sleet grinned and clapped him on the back. "Hurry up, Papa."

Milori whistled for Blizzard and started running, a grin spreading over his face.

Silvermist and Sleet suddenly found themselves alone.

"Um, I should go," she said self-consciously and turned.

He took a step after her. "I didn't ask you to stay with me because I feared you'd do it out of obligation."

She turned with wide eyes.

His throat visibly convulsed as he swallowed hard. "I'm scared to touch you because I don't want you to fear me losing control," he plowed on and took another step closer even though his heart could be seen thudding against his chest. "I know you've heard that Alamurs take females when and how they want, without a care if the females bid it. I would never try to hurt you. Since we've mated, you're like a fever. If I get too aroused, I feel the instincts setting in like an illness. I don't trust myself to not lose control making love to you, so I try not to touch you," he pleaded as if desperate for her to understand.

Her eyes looked up at him sadly. "I'm like an illness to you?"

"No." He took her hand and held it in his against his heart. "You're like a dove and a rainbow and the sun and flowers all wrapped up in your beautiful, delicate body. You are everything I never knew existed. You are perfect to me. But that beauty cannot survive the darkness that I am."

Reaching up, she cupped his scruffy cheek that did not fit in her dainty hand. "You forgot to tell me something I haven't heard in weeks." His questioning eyes prompted her to explain, "Tell me you love me."

"I will always love you."

"And I will always love you because you are my sun. I don't fear you, but I know you fear yourself. You are not a monster. You are my lover and defender, husband. Do you think any fairy is insane enough to harm me when they know it's your wrath they will face?" she asked with a smile touching her lips. "You are better than the Queen's entire army, and yet I know you would surrender to me. I see you struggle to be accepted and to fit into this way of life. We do not have to sleep in a house. I'd like a house to keep our things and just have somewhere that is permanently ours. But I would sleep in a tree with you if that is your wish. And I think you confuse passion with evil instincts, my Sleet. Our mating night was wonderful. I'm not sure why you kept apologizing afterwards and lost all enthusiasm for it."

A flush crept up his neck. "I lost control for a few moments and got too..vigorous with you."

She rolled her eyes. "Vigorous pleased me well. I'm sturdier than you think. I would like more 'vigorous' and more than just for a few moments. You left me entirely unsatisfied last time, good sir."

His eyes widened in surprise. "Are you a tad naughty, wife?"

"A lady never speaks of such things, husband," she smiled and slowly unlaced his pants.

His eyes darted around. "Dewdrop, in the broad daylight?" he whispered as if someone might hear.

"You are fast enough that you can fly without anyone seeing us. Tonight we will sleep on the edge of autumn and summer with blankets, and this week you will have our home finished," she mumbled against his lips.

"Yes, General," he smiled as she kissed him.

"It comes in handy how strong you are being you can't produce white dust," she giggled and summoned a dewdrop.

He grunted, refusing to break the kiss as he took the dewdrop and rubbed it on her wings to make them more pliable for mating.

"Does Spruce know you can't make white dust?" she whispered as he shed their clothes, somehow managing to continue the kiss.

"No, some things are private, dewdrop. My brilliant wife figured out water works well enough for us to soften your wings." He lifted her onto his hips.

"Hurry up. We must be back in time for the baby's announcement," she giggled.

He grinned and wrapped his arms around her. Then they shot up into the clouds before the dust from his surge of wind even lifted off the ground. Her peel of laughter was left echoing in the woods.

Milori shot into the cabin to see Tink and the others pacing in the bedroom. He shot past into the washroom where Clarion was gripping the edge of the tub and Spruce's hand tight as Spruce listened to her belly with his stethoscope. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she panted hard, her hair damp near her brow.

"Clarion, you're breathing too fast. Slow down," Spruce said, stress tinged in the undertones of his voice. He looked up to see Milori drop to his knees on the other side of the tub. "Thank heavens. I can't get her to concentrate. She's breathing too fast for the baby to get air."

A soft cry of pain escaped her.

Milori pried her fingers from the lip of the tub and held her fierce grip. He gently smoothed her hair away from her brow and applied his cool hand. "I'm right here. Slow down, sweetheart, so the baby can breathe." He took loud breaths for her to hear the pattern to follow.

Although she didn't open her eyes, she let go of Spruce's hand to cling to both of Milori's. A whimper escaped her, and she trembled in pain.

"Clarion, don't fight it." His eyes darted to Spruce, unsure how to get her to focus on him instead of the pain. "How far is she?"

"I'm guessing another couple hours. She zoomed through being dilated half way, but she hasn't dilated further in the hour I've been here. Contractions are three minutes apart."

"Hour?"

"We couldn't find you."

"Can she get out of the water?" Milori asked.

"Yes."

Milori laid a leaf towel on the floor so they wouldn't slip and reached into the tub to scoop her up. Then he set her to her feet and stood behind her as close as possible, ignoring his clothes getting soaked. Her body was so warm that he knew his coldness was a relief to her. Wrapping his arms around her belly, he gently massaged and swayed her from side to side. "Easy sweetheart. That contraction is done," he said in a soothing voice. "I need you to focus on me, alright?"

She nodded, her body relaxing a fraction.

"Alright, we'll get this done fast and furious," he teased.

She gave a weak smile and opened her eyes. "Where were you?" she asked breathlessly.

He took the rag Spruce handed him and wiped her brow. "In autumn talking to Sleet. I'm sorry, I came as soon as Silvermist found me. Do you want to be in the tub or..." He looked down when he felt something warm on his legs.

"I'm sorry," she said with a red face when she saw blue and pink sugar had gushed a small bit.

He chuckled and his grip around her didn't loosen. "It's alright. If I'm going to be in this with you, I may as well be in it." He kissed her cheek.

"Ah, good! The baby's head will press down and help progress labor," Spruce said cheerfully as he looked down at their legs.

Milori quirked an eyebrow. "Not sure it's a wise thing to so cheerily tell a laboring woman that it's good she's going to be in more pain."

She started breathing deeply again and wrapped her hands around his arms.

"Here we go, sweetheart. Stay relaxed and lean against me if you need to." He started breathing with her. "Good, love, keep going...10...Slow down...16...Good, sweetheart...30..." He clasped her hands when she started to tremble and a gasp escaped her. "...Good girl, here comes the worst of it...44...no, don't hold your breath, keep breathing...46..."

She doubled over slightly, trusting him to keep her from slipping. He countered her weight and returned her strong grasp, his voice a mumbling in the back of her mind when the pain consumed her.

A soft cry broke free from her, breaking his heart. "...47...all done, we're coming back down...44...good girl, keep breathing..." he cooed.

She sagged against him, and he wiped her brow and neck.

Spruce glanced at Milori, both of them concerned at how fast she was tiring.

"Just think by bedtime we'll be holding our little girl," Milori said cheerfully, his eyes on Spruce as he checked Clarion's and the baby's vitals.

They continued for another three hours, Milori's shirt had been discarded long ago from being in prolonged contact with Clarion's overheating body.

"Clarion, let's try the tub," Spruce suggested and knelt down to where she sat on her knees with Milori's arms wrapped around her to help balance and comfort her. "You aren't making much progress, and Milori is getting too warm."

"No, I'm staying right here if she wants me right here."

They waited for another contraction to pass before she slowly nodded at Milori. "Can you shower?" she panted.

He got the fastest dunk under a cold shower in his life and was back at her side seconds before the next contraction.

It was nearly dark when the contractions swept over her in one waves crest after another, offering only seconds of relief in between. Her body was drenched in sweat and her grip on Milori's hands was tiring. He sat behind her on the bed, his body nearly as damp as hers from the heat and stress. She rolled her head from side to side restlessly on his shoulder as pain wracked her body. Her feet shifted. Milori felt like he was crawling out of his own skin seeing her in so much pain. When this was done, he'd gladly hand her a scalpel to remove the family jewels for doing this to her.

"Hold on, Clarion. Another couple contractions and I think you can push," Spruce promised as he laid out leaf towels to get ready to wrap the baby.

"Spruce," Milori said.

The two men looked at each other, not having to speak a word. Clarion was exhausted with labor taking four times as long as Spruce had expected. Who knew how long the delivery would take, and she was draining fast.

"Milori can use his dust to help push out the baby," Spruce promised her, his eyes on Milori. Then Spruce said quietly while Clarion was caught up in another contraction. "I promise your wife and baby will be fine."

Clarion bucked against him slightly. "Push," she ordered. Her grip tightened, and Milori felt the burn over his heart grow stronger.

The fear left his heart. This was his queen who rose to any challenge. His hands tightened over hers, and he kissed her damp temple.

Spruce checked her and then got ready and smiled. "Let's meet the future Queen of Pixie Hollow."


	60. Chapter 60

The birth had been difficult, and even Spruce had feared if the baby would survive. When the baby had been delivered, struggling to breathe, Clarion had set her lips to the babe's and breathed out dust to help her daughter live. The princess struggled in the first hour of life, but Clarion, although exhausted, had kept her baby close against her heart. No one knew why the baby didn't measure or weigh what they had expected for a full-term newborn. Her body wasn't even the length of Clarion's forearm, and she felt as light as a feather. Spruce had requested to hospitalize the baby, but Clarion and Milori had refused. They could somehow sense what she needed, whether it be more dust, heat from Clarion's heart or a cold frost on her brow from Milori's fingers. Those were only things that parents could provide. And they would provide them at home with Spruce staying the night to monitor the baby and Clarion.

Milori paced the length of the bedroom with his daughter in his arms while Clarion slept. Big diamond blue eyes like her mother stared up at him in wonder. Her skin glowed as pale as his own, accenting her golden blonde curls. Her arms and legs were no thicker than his fingers. He had feared holding her at first and crushing her, but when Clarion had set her in his arms, his heart had been irrevocably lost forever. Never had it been possible to love anything more than Clarion. To trade his life for another's faster and with less thought than for Clarion. Until the moment he had held his daughter, this piece of his and Clarion's love embodied into a tiny soul.

Running the tip of his finger over her tiny cheek, the impossible silkiness felt amazing. How could anything make rose petals feel like sandpaper? How could such beautiful innocence exist?

"You're our beautiful baby girl," he whispered, his voice still thick from crying with joy over her birth even though she now approached her first two hours of life. Slipping his pinkie into her fist, the way she clasped onto him so tight made his heart swell with pride and love. "You will be a strong queen. You are a fighter. Spruce says you are too small to survive. But I feel it, my darling baby. I feel your strength. You will be the strongest, most powerful queen they've ever seen."

She gave a soft squeak and grunt as she opened her tiny mouth and wiggled her head to root against his finger, seeking her mother's milk.

"That's my girl. You eat Mama's good milk and grow strong." Tears glistened in his eyes as he smiled and leaned his forehead against her tiny one to whisper, "I love you with my whole heart."

A week later in winter...

"Well, bust my bonnet, you're the most precious thing I've ever seen!" Rosetta fussed over the cradle at the celebration of the princess's birth.

Clarion smiled up at Milori from the other side of the cradle, her eyes filled with love and pride, oblivious to the music and laughter around them.

"So glad to see you back on your feet, Your Highness. I know you weren't feeling well for awhile and had to delay the party," Terence said.

Clarion felt her face burn with embarrassment. Apparently the whole hollow had heard of her transformation back to being infertile now that the princess was born. "Thank you."

Milori wrapped his arm around her and whispered in her ear. "I love our family as it is," he promised. "I know you wanted more children, but our family is perfect. Plus, I can ravage you whenever I please without a care in the world about timing."

Bowing her head, she tried to hide her flush and elbowed him.

He chuckled and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Spruce said you should be well enough in a couple weeks. I fully intend to be the first to know if your stamina is back."

"Milori," she scolded but couldn't hide her smile. Somehow witnessing her give childbirth had only made Milori more lovestruck.

"Neverland, you sound sexy when you scold me," he whispered in a husky voice.

"You're incorrigible," she laughed.

"Look at those chubby wittle bitty cheeks," Fawn cooed in a baby voice and softly pinched the baby's cheeks through her mittens. "So adorable. Yes, you are. Yes, you are."

Milori's hand shot out to stop Fawn. "Be careful. She's small for her age," he fretted.

With a smile, Clarion guided Milori's hand back around her waist. "She won't break. Spruce said she's already gaining weight well, honey."

He still felt nervous having everyone hovering around his delicate daughter.

"She looks weird," Vidia whispered behind her hand at Tink.

Tink scowled at her. "You look weird," she whispered and then looked at the baby. "She's so perfect. I think she's beautiful," she smiled at Clarion and Milori.

"She is," Terence spoke up. "I expected something kinda ugly like human newborns." Tink elbowed him. "But she's pretty," he added quickly.

Clarion beamed. "She is, thank you." A long-winded sigh escaped her, and she leaned against Milori.

Milori's eyes narrowed in concern. Did she feel weak? Lack of sleep this past week, the physiological changes and the difficult birth had left her light slightly dimmer. Spruce insisted her glow would return, even brighter...but what did Spruce know? This whole procreation thing had never happened before. "Are you alright, sweetheart? Perhaps it's too soon for you to be doing this much. I'll fetch a chair."

"No, I'm just tired from having to nurse her every couple hours at night. I had no idea how much work babies are. Thank pixie dust we can't have twins like humans." When she felt him shaking, she looked up to find him laughing...a laugh that sounded a tinge insane.

"Oh Neverland, I feel like I'm the walking dead. I can't even remember what you just said that seems so funny." He started laughing harder until tears rolled down his face and he gasped for air between belly laughs. "Something weighing 1/16 of a rose petal is driving us to insanity."

Tink and her friends looked at each other sideways. "Is he going crazy?" Tink whispered to Rosetta.

Clarion started giggling. "I'm so tired that, for the life of me, I couldn't figure out how to put my shoe on this morning."

That had Milori practically rolling on the floor.

"Uhhh, how about a nap?" Fawn suggested to them.

A dreamy look suddenly overcame Milori's and Clarion's faces. "A nap," she purred wistfully.

"Oh, I forgot what sleep feels like," Milori sighed in wonder.

"Come. I've seen this often with new parent animals. I'll watch the baby in the nursery while you two sleep." She hussled them away with several guards in tow.

Vidia turned to them with raised eyebrows. "I stand corrected. That was weird. Thank the stars we all can't have babies. It sounds awful...no sleep, diapers, spit up..." She shuddered.

"Thank Pixie Hollow because you already yell enough without being a mother," Tink muttered. "Hey, has anyone seen Silvermist?" Tink asked quickly, changing the subject when Vidia scowled at her.

Sleet should have been back from his shift by now. He'd promised to be done in time to take her to the princess's celebration. Looking at the clock in their new home the fairies had helped him build in autumn, she grabbed the baby gift to go without him. The winter party might be done in a couple hours with sunset approaching. Sleet wouldn't want her to miss it. After all, Lord Milori and Queen Clarion had let them mate. They at least owed the royal family this much.

She hadn't made it to the summer border before a loud thud sounded behind her, making the ground tremble slightly beneath her feet.

"I told you I'd come around three o'clock," a deep voice rumbled. His naturally rusty voice took on a sharp edge when displeased.

"Husband, I am not far from the house, it's daylight and-" she said without breaking pace.

It only took two strides for him to fall into step beside her. "You've been unwell with the flu or something, and I don't like you traveling alone like this. Everyone is at the party, so no one will hear if you call for help."

A bright, innocent smile flashed up at him. "You'll hear me."

He sighed, an angry growl rumbling low in his chest, and his eye peered down at her. The eye patch didn't hinder his glare, unfortunately.

"You worry so much." Fluttering her wings, she rose up eye level and faced him. "I told you I'm fine, teddy bear." Then she pecked a kiss on his lips. "I missed you."

His eyebrow cocked dryly, bringing out the scars across his face. "Don't call me that outside the bedroom. You're avoiding the issue."

She giggled and let herself fall.

Shooting his arms out, he caught her. "Would you stop doing that?!" he barked and set her down quickly. "You expect me to be there to always protect you, to always catch you!"

Looking up at him with wide eyes, her smile died.

He ran a hand down his face and walked in a circle to calm down, crunching leaves underfoot. "I've never had another fairy to worry about like this. Just...stop it," he grunted and raised his wings to fly.

"Sleet?" she whispered softer than a butterfly.

He looked down and dropped his wings when her expressive eyes met his.

"You forgot to tell me today." Her lower lip stuck out slightly in heartfelt disappointment.

Dropping his head back, he closed his eyes. It never failed. As soon as he'd start getting that wall of self-preservation built back up, she'd blast it apart with nothing but an innocent look up at him. "Dammit to Neverland," he whispered and looked down at her. Then she stepped forward and wrapped her dainty arms around his chest, leaning her cheek against him.

"I love you too," she whispered with a smile, nonpussed by his cursing or rough manner.

His arms wrapped around her and he inhaled her scent of the sea, this dainty muse who controlled his heart. "I love you," he breathed, never having meant anything more.

"One day you won't be scared that I hold your heart. I'll protect it," she vowed.

Clarion had to admit the party felt far more enjoyable not being completely sleep deprived. "Thank you, Fawn. We desperately needed the nap," she said in their cabin living room.

Milori burped the baby on his shoulder after her lunch. "Yes, thank you, Fawn." The baby spit up her milk on his shoulder, completely missing the birp cloth. "That's my girl!" he beamed and craned his neck to look at her. She wiggled her little head against his shoulder and sneezed. "Ah! Did you hear that, Clarion?! Her first sneeze! Write it in the baby book."

Clarion and Fawn laughed. "I never thought I'd ever see you happy to be covered in vomit, Lord of Pixie Hollow."

"It's baby vomit," he shrugged. "Are you good at burping for Daddy? Yes, you are, pretty girl," he cooed. "What a good girl-" His words cut off when an ill-mannered sound filled the room. He looked down at brown liquid oozing out of her diaper and down his arm. "Alright, I draw the line at that."

Clarion laughed and took her from Milori. "I suggest you just take a full shower, honey."

When they returned to the party, Silvermist and Sleet were the first to greet them.

"Oh, she's beautiful," Silvermist said in awe as she admired the princess in Clarion's arms.

Clarion couldn't ignore the longing look in Silvermist's eyes. "Would you like to hold her?"

With eyes lighting up as bright as the sun, Silvermist looked up at Clarion. "Really?"

 

"Support her head." She carefully laid the baby in Silvermist's arms.

"Hello, Princess. Look at those pretty eyes and curls. Oh, you smell so pretty. Do you like your party? It's all for you."

While the females fawned over the baby, Milori chuckled to Sleet, "Watch out. I think your wife is about to ask to babysit. The baby is having a strange affect on the females. I think we have twenty babysitters already lined up."

He snorted. "As if you should talk. If the troops hear you talking in that weird baby voice to your daughter, you'll lose all respect."

Milori grinned, his eyes on Clarion and the baby. "Some things are worth it. You should go see the baby. She will be your queen for a bit of time, being you'll out live Clarion and I as Silvermist's mate now," he smiled, intentionally goading Sleet.

Sleet grunted and eyed Clarion and Silvermist with their heads together over the baby. "A fairy like me isn't meant to be around babies."

Milori frowned and studied Sleet watching the infant. Sleet looked just as fierce and unyielding as ever, but something in his eyes softened whenever Silvermist was around. She did something to this male who was alone, who would always truly be alone, never fitting anywhere.

Sleet studied the baby in Silvermist's arms.

How he envied Milori. To have not only the love of a wife but a child too. To have two souls to lay down your life for without hesitation not because of duty but because of love. A family. A real family. Of course he had the family of fairies of Pixie Hollow-as long as he kept his Alamur blood a secret. It was more family than an Alamur should ever dream of. He had no right to envy Milori, a male who was worthy of a child in every sense. But he still felt a void. Stupid, he called himself. Alamurs didn't even mate. He pushed fate as it was by being with Silvermist. No one in their right mind would let a murderer like him near a babe. He'd offer his life for Silvermist's in a heartbeat...at least he hoped he would if it ever came to that. No telling if Alamur instict for self-preservation would hinder him from ever truly saving her. He didn't want to think about that and pushed those thoughts away. He didn't miss the look of longing in Silvermist's eyes as she admired the baby. Not only did she lose out on so much because of what he was, but now she'd lose out on helping care for the baby because of him.

He studied Silvermist. Her gentleness and unending trust amazed him. She was such a contrast to his darkness. She showed him the sun. Sometimes he even felt this feeling that she told him was hope. Sometimes he hoped to one day have happiness untinged by evil that he knew lurked underneath his surface. Alamurs never had happily ever afters, and he waited every day for tragedy to strike their life.

Then Silvermist lifted her eyes to meet his, a snowflake falling onto her eyelashes. His heartbeat stilled. She had often looked at him that way, but he suddenly realized it was love shining from her eyes. This small fairy moved him with a force stronger than Clarion's powers or gold dust. He felt his heart begin beating again. And hope fluttered within it. Could she truly love him so unconditionally? A creature as bloodstained as him? He yearned for her love, desired to be worthy of it.

Catching Milori's eyes on him, he slammed his wall back up and snorted, "Don't get ideas about babysitting. A week ago you accused me of beating my wife. You're not about to let us babysit the future queen."

"Sleet, you can't blame me when you even fear yourself sometimes."

His jaw clenched for a moment, and he focused his eye on nothing particular, just anywhere static that wouldn't make him feel ashamed and unworthy of being here. "No, I can't. My wife, however, has never ending faith in me. So much that she gets reckless sometimes. She thinks she's immune from all harm, animal or fairy, simply because I am her mate."

Milori laughed. "Well, anyone willing to instigate your wrath is an idiot." When Sleet didn't respond, he studied him. "Is everything alright?"

"My wrath, as you so honorably call it, could one day turn on my wife. We both know that," he snarled. "Why the hell the Queen sanctioned our union is beyond me..." His eye swung to Milori suspiciously. Only Milori was looking at Silvermist.

"Does Silvermist look pale?" Milori frowned.

"Take the baby," Silvermist breathed to Clarion.

She did. "Silvermist?"

Sleet shot to Silvermist and caught her just as her eyes rolled back and she fainted.

"Spruce!" Milori called and followed Sleet to autum to lay Silvermist down on the grass.

"Her pulse is weak but steady. She had the flu, but she's been fine the past couple days," Sleet said, with hands shaking. Life without her flashed through his mind. This was the darkness he'd feared from the beginning coming to kill any chance of happiness.

"She's alright," Milori promised and ordered the guards to keep the crowd back. He spotted Clarion flying over with the baby. "Clarion, take the baby away just in case it's something contagious."

Silvermist's eyes fluttered open moments later when Spruce finished examining her.

"Let's speak in private. It's nothing life threatening," Spruce whispered to Sleet and Silvermist. "You and the Queen come too," he said to Milori. "Bring Dewey," he said seriously.

Mary took the princess while they went to the thone room in summer to help Silvermist's temperature remain stable.

Sleet carried Silvermist even though she insisted she felt better. He needed to carry her. He needed to carry her and tell himself that he could protect her from whatever threatened her harm.

Spruce turned to them. "Silvermist, have you had a fever and perhaps belly pains lately?"

She nodded as Sleet eased her onto her feet. "It was just the flu. I've felt better the past couple days."

Clarion and Milori looked at each other. "Wait, are you saying...?" Clarion asked Spruce with wide eyes.

"What? What's wrong with her?" Sleet demanded.

Spruce sighed. "Silvermist, I believe you underwent physiological changes and are capable of conceiving a baby."

She blinked. "I don't understand. I thought only the Queen..."

Dewey spoke up. "This makes sense. The Queen's body reverted back to being infertile after the Princess's birth. A Lord of Winter must be born, and we thought it would come from the Queen. Who better than the General of Winter to produce the heir, if the Lord can't?"

"What?!" Sleet roared, his eyes shooting to Milori. "You're not touching my wife!"

"No, you would father the child," Dewey explained.

Sleet shook his head rapidly and backed up. "No. No, no, no." He pointed at Silvermist. "No, she can't have a baby. I was stripped of my position. I'm not the second in command, not the General! Snowflake is! I'm an-" He bit off his words before he said 'Alamur,' which he knew would upset Silvermist. His eyes darted to Clarion, pleading for help.

Clarion felt her face pale. Oh Neverland. An Alamur would sire the future Lord of Winter? Silvermist wasn't the most intelligent fairy, but she would make a good mother. But Sleet? Her eyes flew to Milori, who looked concerned too. "Why not Snowflake to bear the heir?"

Sleet suddenly collapsed to his knees, as if knocked down. "Oh shit. No. No, she can't!" he shouted in a panic, his eyes on Milori. "She won't survive! She can't!" he yelled, terror consuming him in a way no one had ever seen.

Milori knelt and grabbed his shoulders. "She will," he promised.

"What? Milori, what is going on?" Clarion demanded.

Sleet ran shaking hands through his hair, his breathing choppy and panicked as he stared at the ground. "One Alamur every five hundred years can have an heir, in theory, overthrowing any fairy in his land who would otherwise produce the heir. It's to ensure the Alamur line holds control. Only, no female has ever survived the mating for it to have worked."

"Why one? How? How is this Alamur chosen?" Clarion demanded. What had she done allowing them to mate? What evil had she brought into Pixie Hollow?

Sleet looked at Milori with tears in his eye. Then he turned his gaze to Silvermist. A silent tear ran down his scarred cheek.

Clarion couldn't breathe. She'd never seen terror in an Alamur. Or known they could even feel that strong of an emotion. Never had she seen grief in Sleet so profound. The reason behind it must be more horrifying than anything he'd ever known. Clarion feared just what could bring a fairy like Sleet to his knees. "Sleet," she commanded through clenched teeth, her voice like iron. "Answer me. Now," she hissed.

His face crumpled, but his eye did not waiver from Silvermist. "An Alamur who has slain the most queens in those five hundred years is chosen. Any female he..." He swallowed hard as if swallowing down rising bile. "...rapes becomes fertile."

Clarion shot at him, but Milori held her back around the waist. "Clarion! He hasn't hurt her!" He put himself between her and Sleet, her rage so palpable that he hoped she'd be able to control her powers and not inadvertently kill him or Sleet.

Her nostrils flared and eyes bore into him. Then her eyes flicked past to Sleet. "Why one of my fairies? How have you not sired on others?" she spat.

His head hung in grief and shame. "I've never been intimate with another," he whispered. "A procreation is said to be more violent than a coupling." He raised his eye to Silvermist. "I love you, but I cannot stay. It becomes a frenzy I won't be able to control." Tears rolled out from beneath his eye patch.

Silvermist stepped over to Sleet and knelt, reaching up to cup his cheek. "You won't hurt me. I know you better than I think you know yourself. I know you will be an amazing father. You will protect and provide for us. You are stronger than any of us. In here." She laid her hand over his heart. Gently pulling him down to lean his forehead to hers, she whispered with tears in her eyes, "You aren't an Alamur. You're Sleet. A male who has honor and love; who has survived so much and can offer so much. I would be afraid of having a baby with anyone else but not you. Because I believe you can do anything. I don't fear your touch. We will be a family and raise him to be a good fairy like you have become."

"Silvermist," he sniffled and shook his head that bowed again with grief and shame.

"No." She forced his head back up. "You will not run. I trust you with my life. You have not hurt me."

He shook his head. "I broke your arm-"

"And realized your strength. You have not so much as left a bruise on me since. I of all fairies should fear you, but I do not. You should not fear you either." She searched his eyes. Then she brushed a kiss over his lips.

Closing his eye, he nuzzled her hair, ever so gently wrapping his arms around his delicate dewdrop.

Silvermist pulled his arms around her tighter. "A real hug. I will not break," she whispered.

"Milori," Clarion whispered in concern.

He took her hand. "Tomorrow, sweetheart. Today we celebrate the birth of our baby, the future Queen of Pixie Hollow. Come. We will talk in private."

They retrieved the baby and walked up to the balcony overlooking the crowd, and he saw the worry on Clarion's brow. "Love, I think Sleet has a softer side than we realize. It will be alright. We'll worry about this tomorrow. She'll be lucky if he lets himself sleep in the same house as her after this. I've never seen him so unglued. He won't harm her, much less be intimate with her tonight."

"You trust him in this?" She searched his eyes.

"I do, love. Now, let's go present our baby to Pixie Hollow." He stroked his daughter's cheek with a finger, making her root for food.

Clarion sighed and put her worries to bed until morning. She ssmiled down at their baby. "I swear she's going to eat us out of house and home."

"She's going to catch up on her growth within a month," he smiled and set a hand on Clarion's back to guide them out to the balcony.

The crowd gathered below in anticipation of the baby's name, an excited murmur buzzing. Even the animals attended from far and wide.

She smiled up at Milori, holding their baby close. Four hundred years ago she remembered sitting in her room and looking up at the stars, so alone and empty inside her heart. She had dreamed of finding love. Never had she dreamed of finding a love so strong. Never dreamed of being so happy. And certainly had never imagined having a beautiful baby to raise with him. Looking up at him, she couldn't wait for the next six hundred years to see what adventures awaited them.

"Fairies of Pixie Hollow," Milori said, his voice loud and clear. "It is with great pride and joy that we celebrate the birth of the future queen of Pixie Hollow." He smiled down at Clarion, his heart so full of love he couldn't contain it.

Cheers rang out, the feeling of joy and excitment from the crowd overwhelming.

Clarion smiled up at Milori with profound love and then held up the baby. "Pixie Hollow, we welcome Princess Anastasia."

"Long live the Princess! Long live the Princess!" the crowd roared. Flower petal confetti rained down, rainbows shot across the sky, snowflakes glittered through the air. Milori lifted his arm to let the Northern Lights dance in all their glory. Clarion's joyful laugh made the stars shoot like diamonds though the sky.

Milori wrapped his arms around Clarion and their beautiful baby. "Thank you for this life, Clarion," he whispered in a thick voice. "I love you."

"I love you," she smiled with tears of joy.

Then he kissed her. And neither one of them noticed the fireworks lighting up the heavens.

THE END


End file.
